


Friendship, Loyalty, and Love

by MissCora, seamusdeanforever_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCora/pseuds/MissCora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamusdeanforever_archivist/pseuds/seamusdeanforever_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Seamus are two of the least explored characters, canonically, but they have lives and loves of their own. When they are fifteen they begin to notice some very odd things, including each other (yes, it will be slash), and all the adventures their friends keep having with out them. But this time when HarryÕs world starts to go wrong they will not be left behind. Will also include Ron/Hermione, and possibly Harry/Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Uneventful Train Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Dean and Seamus are two of the least explored characters, canonically, but they have lives and loves of their own. When they are fifteen they begin to notice some very odd things, including each other (yes, it will be slash), and all the adventures their friends keep having with out them. But this time when Harry's world starts to go wrong they will not be left behind. Will also include Ron/Hermionie, and possibly Harry/Draco.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: I'm just going to declare this an AU to begin with, since the fifth book will be coming out before I finish, and unless a one in trillions chance occurs, this will not agree with it.

"Seamus! Seamus Finnigan!" the voice shook the entire house. "Wake up, Seamus! If you don't get up you're going to miss the train!"   
  
The 15 year old boy who was being hailed shot up in bed and looked at the clock on the wall. As he blinked at it he could see it swing from Oversleeping to Running Late. Swearing slightly the tousle haired young man hopped out of bed and began to pull on jeans and a blue shirt. It had been a warm summer, and was still warm, but he knew that by the time the train pulled into Hogwarts station he'd be very glad of the extra warmth provided his school robes.   
  
"Seamus!" the voice of his mother boomed out through the house again. "Seamus did you hear me?"   
  
"I'm up mum!" Seamus hollered back. "Stop yelling at me already!" He yanked open his door and clattered down the stairs. "Honestly mum, it's not like I'm that late," he said as he reached the kitchen where his mother was waiting with breakfast.   
  
"No, not that late. But if you want to eat you'd better do it fast. You father's getting the car ready to take you to the station." Mrs. Finnigan shooed her sleepy son into a seat at the table and started dishing out some eggs for him. "You're all packed, right?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah . . . oh, no! I left my clock on the wall." Seamus made to hop up from the table, but his mother stopped him.   
  
"You just eat your breakfast, I'll go put it in the trunk," she said.   
  
As his mother headed upstairs Seamus thought about the clock in question. It had been a birthday gift last year from his best friend and roommate, Dean Thomas. Seamus had been very surprised when the other boy gave it to him, having been expecting another one of Dean's football posters or some such thing. The clock was a wizarding clock, and instead of telling time it told where the person in question was. This one had been specially made, and its "hours" included Sleeping, Oversleeping, Running Late, Goofing Off, Actually Working, In Class, Home, Traveling, and Peril. Harry, one of the boys' other roommates had commented once, after showing up late for Potions class, that the clock face showed Seamus was in Peril while in class. The general assumption was that this resulted not so much from Professor Snape, despite his known dislike of Gryffindors, but rather from the fact that Dean and Seamus were working behind Neville Longbottom that day.   
  
"Morning Sport," Seamus's father interrupted his musings as he came in. "Ready to head back to school?"   
  
"Hi dad. Yeah, I can't wait to see everybody again. Are you taking me?" the boy asked.   
  
"Yeah. You're mother's loading your trunk in the car now." Seamus' father occasionally felt out of place when there were lots of wizards around because he was a Muggle, but he loved taking Seamus to Platform 9 and 3/4 to catch the Hogwarts Express. Seamus thought it was because of all the Muggle parents he got to meet there. He'd seen his father talking with Hermione Granger's parents last year as the train was pulling out of the station, and he suspected his father had enjoyed knowing more about the wizard world than the other parents.   
  
"Are you done yet dear?" Seamus' mother returned to the kitchen. "You really ought to head out." Seamus got up from the table and dumped his dishes in the sink before giving his mother a hug. "Have a nice year dear, and do write me occasionally." His mother gave him a kiss and he and his father headed out to the car.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
*Knock, Knock, Knock*   
  
The tapping on the door slowly brought Dean Thomas to wakefulness.   
  
"Dean, sweetie, are you awake?" his mother's voice could be heard from outside the door.   
  
"Yes mother," he called back before hauling himself out of bed.   
  
"Ok. Come downstairs as soon as you're dressed and have some breakfast. Your father wants to leave for King's Cross Station in an hour." Dean could hear his mother's footsteps heading down the hall from his bedroom and down the stairs towards the kitchen. He started to pull on some clothes, concentrating more on the upcoming year at school than on what he was wearing. He couldn't wait to get to the train station and see his friends again. That had to be the worst part of having Muggle parents who didn't really approve of magic, he ended up spending his summers all alone or with his friends from grade school and never got to see his best friend Seamus or his other school friends.   
  
Once he was dressed Dean tossed the book he'd been reading last night into his trunk and shut the lid. He considered hauling it out of his room now, but decided to wait until after breakfast. If he got lucky his father would give him a hand with the heavy thing.   
  
Down in the kitchen his mother had just finished putting breakfast on the table. "Morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?" his mother asked.   
  
"Yes, just fine. Where's dad?"   
  
"I'm right here Dean," his father entered the room and sat down at the table. "What did you want?"   
  
"Oh, I was just hoping you could help me with my trunk after breakfast."   
  
"Sure," his father replied. "You're all packed, aren't you?"   
  
"Of course." The conversation lapsed into silence as everyone finished their food. Meals at the Thomas house always got a little strained when his holidays drew to a close. His parents kept wishing he was heading back to Easton or some other normal school and he never felt he could talk about the work he was doing at Hogwarts.   
  
"Well, if your done we should probably head out," Dean's father finally broke the silence, and the two of them got up from the table to go up stairs.   
  
After hauling the trunk down and out to the car Dean came back in to say good bye to his mother.   
  
"Mum, I hope your year goes well while I'm gone."   
  
"Oh, love. I'm the one who's supposed to say that," his mother smiled sadly at him. The distance that had grown between her and her only child tended to upset her. "And I do hope your year goes well. I mean, it's not what we were expecting, but you've got an opportunity, and I hope you do as well at your studies as you can." Mrs. Thomas gave her son a hug, and then he and his father got in the car to head for London.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
King's Cross Station was moderately crowded when Dean and his father arrived there. His father grabbed a trolley and they loaded the trunk onto it, then pushed their way to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.   
  
"Well Dean, I hope you have a good term," Dean's father said.   
  
"You're not going to come through, are you?" the boy asked.   
  
"Um, I think I'd . . ." Dean's father was interrupted by a yell.   
  
"DEAN! Hey! It's good to see you!" Seamus Finnigan pushed his trolley up to the barrier and leapt at his friend to give him a hug. "How are you? How was your holiday?" The Irish boy's enthusiasm seemed to radiate off of everything and Dean couldn't help but grin at him.   
  
"Hey Seamus. It's good to see you too. I don't think you've met my father before," Dean gestured to his father. "Dad, this is my best friend from school, Seamus Finnigan. Seamus, my father."   
  
Seamus smiled at the elder Thomas and held out his hand. "It's very nice to meet you Mr. Thomas."   
  
"Um, yes . . ." Dean's father started to say as he took Seamus' hand and shook it.  
  
"And this is my dad," Seamus interrupted again, waving at his father who was fighting his way through the crowds. "Dad, this is my friend Dean I've been telling you about, and his father, Mr. Thomas."   
  
"Very nice to meet you both," Seamus' father smiled and Dean could see where Seamus had gotten a lot of his looks. The sandy blonde hair and grin seemed to run in the family, as did the bright blue eyes. "Dean, Seamus has told us a lot about you, I'm glad I've finally gotten the chance to see you." Mr. Finnigan shook Dean's hand, then looked at his watch and sighed. "Come on, we ought to go on through and get your stuff on board. Why don't you two head through first."   
  
Seamus grabbed his friend's hand and yanked him through the barrier, leaving the two adults on the other side. Mr. Thomas looked quite startled and faintly alarmed when Mr. Finnigan gestured for him to pass through the very solid looking wall. "Um, I'm sorry, but I don't know how . . ." he trailed off.   
  
"Oh, you've never been through? But Dean's . . ." Seamus' father also trailed off and then started again. "I'm sorry we interrupted your farewells. Here, it's very easy. Just lean against the wall, and close your eyes." Mr. Finnigan demonstrated and they both leaned back. "Then," he started, before swinging around and giving Dean's father a light shove, pushing him back through the wall.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
"What!" Mr. Thomas yelled out as he slipped through the wall and stumbled back onto the bustling platform. "Oh good heavens." Mr. Finnigan stepped through and gave the other man a faintly sheepish look.   
  
"Sorry about that, but I realized I didn't know how to explain it, and it really is a lot easier to just do it without thinking about it."   
  
"Dad?" Dean's curious voice came from behind the two men. "You came to see me off?" He sounded hopeful, but kept his face neutral.   
  
"Well," the elder man paused. "Well, yes. I figured since we didn't get a chance to say good bye before your friend got here I should come through and make sure you got on the train ok."   
  
"Come on Dean," Seamus was standing at his friend's elbow, tugging at him, "Let's get these monsters," and he gestured to the trunks, "onboard and snag a compartment."   
  
The four of them hurried over to the train and hauled the two trunks and Seamus' owl's cage on to the train. They found an empty compartment and loaded it up, then all stepped back off in order to say good bye.   
  
"See you, Sport. Don't get in too much trouble, and do write occasionally," Mr. Finnigan leaned over and gave his son a hug, before turning to Dean. "It was nice meeting you, Dean. I'm sorry we didn't get an actual chance to talk, but maybe you can come visit us some holiday."   
  
"I'd like that," Dean said, then glanced at his father. "I don't know when I'll get the chance though. It was nice meeting you."   
  
Dean's father looked at him for a second, then leaned over and hugged him. "Have a good term Dean, study hard. If you get the chance to send us a letter, that would be nice. There is some way to send normal post, right?" His father suddenly looked a little worried at the thought of having an owl show up at their hose with a letter. The original acceptance letter from Hogwarts and the yearly follow up notes about book requirements had been the family's' only experience with owl post, and they found it quiet disconcerting.   
  
"Yeah, there is." Dean smiled up at his father for a second, then reached up and hugged him again. "Thank you for coming through," he whispered, so quietly his father almost didn't hear him.   
  
Then they separated, and Dean and Seamus hurried onto the train as the whistle began to blow. The two men were pushed away from the train by the sudden influx of students, and stood together as the platform began to clear of all but adults, and as the train began to leave they saw their two sons lean out of a window and wave at them.   
  
Then the train was gone, and the two turned to leave. The one preoccupied with thoughts of his son, and the strangeness which had become involved in their life, and the other worried about his son's friend, and why it might be that the man walking next to him seemed to be so uncomfortable in these surroundings. Mr. Finnigan helped Mr. Thomas to pass back through the barrier, and they said goodbye. Both went off, thinking their separate thoughts. But when Mr. Finnigan got home he brought up the chance meeting with his wife, and what it might mean for the two boys, while Mr. Thomas merely told Mrs. Thomas that Dean had gotten off safely.   
  
  
  
****   
  
  
  
On the train the two boys in question sat back into their seats opposite each other, and began to chat.   
  
"So, tell me about your summer? What did you do? Where did you go?" Seamus began.   
  
"Eh, there's nothing to tell," Dean replied. "Didn't go anywhere interesting, didn't do much of anything. We took a week trip to the beach, but that's hardly novel."   
  
"Clearly your holiday was fascinating," Seamus teased. Then the smaller boy turned serious. "Dean, if your summer was so boring with your parents, why didn't you take up my offer to come visit me for a while. I would have loved to see you over the summer. And wouldn't it have been nice to get away from home?"   
  
Dean scowled at this line of questioning. "Seamus," he started and then paused. "Look," he tried again. "I just couldn't have gotten my parents to agree."   
  
"You couldn't have, or you didn't manage?" Seamus asked, and at his friend confused expression he tried again. "As in, you didn't even try?"   
  
Dean grimaced, then stared out the window for a while. Finally, when Seamus was starting to get slightly worried the other boy looked back at him. "No, Seamus. I didn't even try."   
  
"Why?" Seamus looked hurt. "If you didn't want to come you could have just told me that at the beginning of the summer instead of saying 'we'll see'."   
  
"No, that's not it. I'd have loved to come I just," Dean trailed off once again. "My parents . . . my parents . . ."   
  
Seamus arched an eyebrow at his friend, waiting to see if he'd be able to continue.   
  
"They don't really like magic," he finally finished.   
  
"What do you mean?" Seamus cocked his head to one side and gave the other boy a quizzical look. "You mean like Harry's aunt and uncle?" At this the Irish boy began to look a little mad.   
  
"No, no. Not like that at all," Dean hastily reassured him. "They just . . . don't really approve, and would rather have me around during the summer, so they can keep an eye on me."   
  
"I don't understand. How can they not approve of wizards? You're a wizard. Don't they support you?"   
  
"No," Dean sighed. "Not really. They very much wish I'd gone somewhere normal where they could tell their friends about how I was doing all of these simple, easy to understand things, like playing football, or having trouble with my science teachers. They can't exactly explain to their coworkers about how my Potion's professor is horrible to us, or how one of my roommates once saved the world from an evil man by failing to die."   
  
Seamus thought about this for a little bit, then really looked at his best friend for the first time since they'd met this morning. He could see how Dean was looking stressed, and tired, and could tell how much his parents behavior upset him, and just how hard it had been for him to keep quiet about that all summer. Then the smaller boy stood up, stepped across the compartment, and gave Dean a hug. "I'm sorry Dean, I'll stop hassling you," he said. And the other boy leaned into the hug for a second before pulling back.   
  
"Look, Seamus," he started. "I'm a little tired. Do you mind if I take a nap?" Dean was staring out the window, but Seamus could tell the other boy was embarrassed that he had been able to read him so well.   
  
"No, not at all," Seamus replied, and then snagged a book out of his backpack and plopped himself into the seat next to Dean. "Here," he said. "My shoulder's a better pillow than the window, I'll bet. You just get some sleep."   
  
Dean looked at his friend and roommate, and then gave a shrug at the Irish boy's peculiarities. "Thanks," he said, and laid his head on Seamus' shoulder. Then, lulled by the motion of the train and the steady beating of Seamus' heart he fell asleep. And the rest of the train ride passed uneventfully.   
  
When Hermione came by later to tell them they ought to get into robes since the train was about to reach the station that's how she found them, one engrossed in a book, and the other sound asleep, with his hand lightly curled around his friend's forearm.


	2. You Always Have a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Dean becomes more aware of what's sitting right in front of him and a strange dream opens up a new option for Seamus, while in the background Harry, Ron, and Hermione begin to worry about strange happenings in the world outside Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: I'm going on a study abroad trip soon, so the next couple chapters may take awhile to come out.

The voices of his roommates slowly filtered into Dean's sleepy mind.   
  
" . . . When do . . . expect . . .attack?" That slightly puzzled tone was Ron Weasley, the youngest son of the very large Weasley family.   
  
"Don't know but . . . bets on. . . involving Mal. . ." The more confidant voice of Harry Potter, the wizarding world's youngest hero, was a little easier to make out than his best friend, but that might just be because Dean was more awake.   
  
"Well, sure. That's . . . rotten the lot of them. But I was . . . when?" As Dean continued to lose his fight to ignore his roommates he opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling of his four poster bed. He was awake, and at this point he might as well get up, no matter what the time. If Harry and Ron were up they weren't going to shut up until they left.   
  
"It's bound to be the worst possible time, whenever it is." Harry answered.   
  
"Guys," Dean stuck his head out from behind the hangings. "What time is it?"   
  
"Um," Ron glanced across. "Seamus' clock says he's home and not over sleeping, so it can't be that late."   
  
Harry snorted at his friend, then glanced at the watch lying on his bedstead. "It's almost 6:30 Dean."   
  
"Do I even want to know what you guys are doing up at 6:30 on a Saturday?" Dean gave them a mock scowl, before climbing out of bed and grabbing a pair of jeans from his trunk.   
  
"We were just talking, that's all," Ron's answer was sufficiently vague to earn him a weird look from Dean, but a glance at Harry gave him the impression that he'd be better off not asking what they were talking about. He didn't really want to get involved in whatever trouble the dream team was going to end up in this year.   
  
"Alright then, but shouldn't you guys be 'just talking' somewhere other than where the rest of us are sleeping?" Dean asked them as he changed out of his PJs, his voice becoming muffled as he pulled on a new shirt.   
  
"Yeah, honestly guys," Neville Longbottom's yawning face appeared at the head of his bed.   
  
"Sorry. We didn't mean to wake you up. But we can't have been being that loud," Harry grinned at his three wakeful roommates. "Seamus hasn't woken up yet."   
  
Dean grinned. "That's not saying much Harry and you know it. Seamus could sleep through a twenty-one gun salute."   
  
"A what?" Ron asked, while Harry began to laugh.   
  
"It's 6 bloody 30 in the morning!" their fifth roommate's voice erupted from his bed. "There had bloody well be a dark wizard in here trying to kill one of you." The body of Seamus Finnigan soon followed his voice as he bounced out of bed to figure out who it was who had awoken him.   
  
"Only if you count Neville's breath," Ron told him, while Harry snickered.   
  
"Hey!" Neville yelled, and threw a pillow at the redhead, who dodged and let the pillow hit Harry, whose bed they were sitting on. Harry tried to retaliate, but whether because he was still laughing or because he hadn't put his glasses on yet, he missed rather significantly.   
  
"Oh, that's it!" Seamus yelled, and, grabbing up his pillow and Harry's he launched himself at the bed Harry and Ron were sitting on.   
  
At two to one odds Seamus was slightly overmatched, especially once Harry had wrestled control of his pillow away from him. Never one to be left out, especially when a friend needed him, Dean snatched his own pillow and rushed to Seamus' aid.   
  
Neville soon joined in and the fight was well underway when the door to the dormitory crashed open. In the doorway Ron's two older brothers, Fred and George were standing, looking fairly annoyed. They took stock of the situation, then began to glower at the five boys. "Look," one of them began.   
  
"It's not that we don't appreciate the need for a good pillow beating every now and then," the other continued.   
  
"But honestly guys, the rest of the house is trying to sleep." the first finished.   
  
"Fred," Ron said. "I never thought I'd hear the day you'd be in favor of not playing so that others could sleep."   
  
"Well," said the first twin, who was apparently Fred. "Normally I'd agree, have your fun and the rest of them be damned . . ."   
  
"But not when it's us!" George finished. "If you guys have this much energy, take it outside."   
  
"Yeah," Fred agreed. "The weather won't be this nice for much longer."   
  
Dean had to admit the twins had a point. The heat of high summer had died down into a wonderful warm fall, and since classes had only started a few weeks ago the guys actually had the time to play around with.   
  
Seamus apparently agreed, because he began to change into some normal clothes, and asked Dean, "What do you think? Want to go play football on the pitch." Dean was rather amazed at this. He had finally managed last year to get Seamus to try the Muggle game, but had been under the impression that his friend thought it a bit dull.   
  
"Yeah, absolutely. How about it guys," he said turning to the other 3. "Willing to come out and play?"   
  
"Sure," Harry replied, and Neville nodded at them as he started getting dressed. Dean also grabbed up his sketchbook and a couple of his schoolbooks to stuff into his backpack so that when the game ended he could work out in the sun.   
  
Ron's response was less than enthusiastic. "Why football, why not Quidditch?"   
  
"Oh come on Ron, don't be such a duffer," Seamus teased. "I want to run around and get worked up. Or would you rather I got worked up in a less wholesome, G-rated fashion? Do you think Ginny's awake?"   
  
Ron growled at Seamus, who's innocent flirtation with the youngest Weasley really upset her over protective brother, although Fred and George couldn't help but laugh at Ron's over reaction. "Have fun guys," George said.   
  
"And keep it quiet till your outside," Fred added as they turned to go back to the seventh year's dorm.   
  
They actually managed to follow this command reasonably well, although by the time they got down to the Entrance Hall they were already racing each other and annoying Ms. Norris as they thundered through.   
  
Outside Dean dropped his football and began to dribble it down to the Quidditch pitch, successfully guarding it from Seamus, although not from the more experienced Harry. Once at the pitch they set up a goal section and began shooting, keeping individual points, with Neville as a surprisingly adept goalie.   
  
After about an hour enough other students had come out to enjoy the weather that they had actually managed to form up two full teams, with Justin Finch-Fletchley as the opposing goalie, and the twins on his side.   
  
The game looked like it might continue for quite some time, but Dean was beginning to get kind of tired and had seen Ginny and her friend Colin come out to sit on the grass relatively near to where he had dropped his backpack. He bowed out of the game, letting one of the third year Hufflepuffs who had been watching take his spot, then went over to sit with the two forth years.   
  
"Hey Ginny, can you do me a favor?" Dean asked.   
  
"Depends on the favor, doesn't it?" The red head grinned at him.   
  
"Would you model for me?"   
  
Colin gave a little snort. "Honestly Dean, that's got to be the world's most over used pick up line."   
  
"No," Dean answered. "Seriously Gin. I've got a lot of sketches of the guys since they're always around, but I can't get a good feel for the female form."   
  
"See there," Colin said. "Now that's a pick up. 'I need to get a feel for the female form.'"   
  
"Stop it Colin," Ginny said with a grin. "What exactly do you want me to do Dean?"   
  
"Just carry on with what you were doing. Making you hold some stupid pose wouldn't get me anywhere. I'm just going to be randomly sketching you."   
  
"Sure," Ginny smiled at him. "But what if what I was going to do was get up and leave?"   
  
"Well, do you mind if we make this an open offer?" Seeing Ginny's puzzled look he tried to explain. "Basically, would you mind if I just sketched you when I get the opportunity?"   
  
"You mean like, at dinner, or in the common room?"   
  
"Exactly. Then I can get a variety of different poses and get a better idea of what I'm doing. Since I can't exactly take art classes here I have to teach myself things about form, color, shape, and so on."   
  
Ginny looked a little confused at this, but Colin seemed to be really enthusiastic. "I know what you mean," he said. "A lot of the same properties get used in photography, but I can only study it when I'm at home, or on my own."   
  
Ginny smiled at the two boys, then said to Dean. "Sure, I don't mind being randomly sketched. But I didn't know you asked people to be models. I've seen you sketching some of the others."   
  
Dean blushed at this. "Ah, no. Actually, this is the first time I've bothered to ask. It's just . . ." he trailed off.   
  
"What?"   
  
"I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. I mean, if someone started staring at me and making drawings of me all the time I might start to think that . . ." Dean trailed off.   
  
"You didn't want me to think you had a crush on me?" Ginny couldn't help the little giggle in her tone.   
  
"Well, yeah."   
  
"That's so sweet of you Dean!" and she reached over and gave him a hug. "Most guys," and here she shot a look at Colin, "don't even bother to think about a girls feelings when they're doing things with or to a girl, let alone ask or try to protect them."   
  
"Hey!" Colin protested. "I think about your feelings a lot."   
  
"Asking me if I'm sick doesn't count." She shot back.   
  
Dean grinned at them, then pulled out his pencils to draw the two of them. If he could just capture the energy of their bickering, the flash in her eyes, the quickness of his movements. With his sketchbook out he entered a little world of his own.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Later, after Ginny had gone back to the castle to get some work done, Dean looked around for another subject. His eyes turned to the field where the game was still going strong, and were caught by a flash of gold. There was Seamus, his sandy blonde hair shining in the sun, his skin glistening, his smile bright. Dean began to sketch again, trying to get the vibrancy of his best friend down on the inadequate medium of paper.   
  
Drawing Seamus was always interesting. The boy never, ever, ever stopped moving. Even when he was dozing in a chair in the common room there was an inherent motion to him, which Dean found fascinating. And yet, he couldn't help but hope that someday he'd get a chance to sketch Seamus when he was being still. _Surely he must stop sometime,_ Dean thought. _Although, if not when he's asleep then I don't know when._ In the meantime, however, here were another two pages full of the motion and life of Seamus. Seamus running headlong down the field. Seamus bouncing the ball of his head. Seamus once again forgetting the no-contact nature of the game and tackling one of the Weasleys.   
  
After filling a third page with quick drawings Dean shut his sketchbook, and pulled out the transfiguration text, hoping to get some work done. But a shout from the field attracted his attention and he looked up, to once again find his roommate and best friend among the players. He sat there and watched for almost ten minutes, before giving it up as a lost cause. Dean tossed the book to the grass and ran back to the field, retaking the position he had relinquished less than an hour ago. As the moved full tilt into the game he thought once again. _What would I have to do to get him to be still._ And, less coherently, _If I asked, would he be still for me?_   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
The game ended at lunchtime as everyone streamed back into the castle to eat. The boys at the Gryffindor table seemed to be trying to set new noise pollution records, and Seamus more than most. He was bouncing all over, holding 3 different conversations at once, and being a general nuisance. Hermione, who had come down to watch the end of the game, and then berate her two best friends for not doing their work kept shooting Seamus looks and telling him to be quiet.   
  
"Oh, honestly Seamus!" the girl finally erupted. "Can't you sit down and eat lunch like a normal person?"   
  
"Nope," he answered cheekily.   
  
"I am ordering you as a prefect to . . ." she began, but Dean interrupted her.   
  
"Seamus, come here."   
  
"What's up?" he yelled from half way down the table.   
  
"No, come here Seamus." Dean said again.   
  
Seamus got up and walked down to where Dean was sitting. Dean moved over a bit and the Irish boy dropped onto the bench next to him. "What can I do for you?" he asked in a mocking tone.   
  
"Here," the taller boy handed over a plate of sandwiches. "You've been running around all morning, and you didn't get breakfast, right? Eat!"   
  
"But . . ." Seamus started.   
  
"No. No talking. Eat."   
  
And to the surprise of almost everyone, Seamus did. By no means did he sit quietly, but the noise level at the table dropped down to a quiet and manageable roar, and Hermione sat back in astonishment, then returned to her conversation with Harry and Ron. Dean heard occasional snatches of their talk, things having to do with strange letters, an attack in some small town somewhere, and something to do with a guy named Wormtail, but he just chalked it up to the dream team trying to save the world again and continued with his meal.   
  
Lunch finished up, and Seamus made to get up from the table and head back to the dorm, but was stopped by Dean. "You want to go study out on the lawn?" he asked.   
  
Seamus grinned. "Absolutely!" he said. "Left my books upstairs though."   
  
"I've got mine, we can share."   
  
The two of them walked outside and settled down on the grass. Dean pulled out the transfiguration text he had failed to read earlier, then noticed Seamus was staring at him.   
  
"What's up?" he asked.   
  
"You know, you could have just asked me to be quiet at lunch. You didn't have to try and distract me."   
  
Dean snorted. "Right, and because I asked you'd have just shut up? Ha. Besides, that's not why I did it. You hadn't eaten anything, and I didn't want to have to listen to you complain later." Dean was smiling at Seamus, but stopped when he noticed his friend's serious face.   
  
"Am I really that obnoxious?" Seamus asked.   
  
"What? Where'd that come from?"   
  
"Really Dean, do I annoy you?"   
  
Dean smiled at his worried friend. "No more than anyone else, and significantly less than most." But seeing that Seamus wanted a serious answer he sighed. "No Seamus. I think you're fantastic. Life wouldn't be the same without you bouncing off the walls and annoying people like Hermione, who, you have to admit, takes life way to seriously."   
  
Seamus grinned, and sat back relieved, picking up the textbook and starting to look through it. Now Dean was a little curious. "Is that why you sat down and ate? You thought I was annoyed with you?"   
  
"'Course not," Seamus answered, distracted by the notes he had started to make. "I did it because you asked."   
  
Dean thought about this for a bit, but decided his friend was too complicated to figure out in a day, and that the strange emphasis in Seamus' words might not mean anything.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Seamus knew he was dreaming; the world had that bizarre, unreal feeling that went with dreams. He just couldn't figure out what the dream meant.   
  
There was Dean, his best friend, over on the other side of the room, standing and watching him. Leaning against the wall, looking cool and collected, the taller boy was staring straight at Seamus, in the kind of unnerving but also kind of pleasant way he had when he was sketching something. The piercing gaze that tried to take in and understand absolutely everything about it's subject. On the other side of the room, sitting together and seeming completely absorbed in each other were Ron and Hermione. Seamus was fairly sure that, although in the waking world he had seen the two of them together more times than he could count, he had never seen them more together than they were in the dream.   
  
Behind Seamus came a voice he recognized as Harry's. "You know, you have a choice."   
  
"What do you mean," Seamus said, and turned to see his famous roommate standing behind him.   
  
"There's always a choice. We're all coming up to the point where we have to make some important ones, but the thing you need to remember is that you've still got a choice."   
  
"I don't know what you mean Harry. A choice in what?"   
  
Now Ginny was standing in the room, over near where Hermione and Ron were sitting. She smiled at him, and started to life a hand as though to get him to come over to her. At that moment Dean spoke. "Seamus, come here." It was the same tone that he had used in the Great Hall during lunch a few weeks ago, and suddenly Seamus thought he knew what Harry meant. He certainly didn't have to do anything Dean told him to do, but he chose to, because it was Dean.   
  
Seamus gave Ginny a little smile, then turned away from her, walking over to where Dean was leaning against the wall. He walked all the way till he was standing directly in front of his tall friend, then leaned up and kissed him.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
"WHAT?" Seamus' yell woke all four of his roommates from their sleep. Dean was the first one across the room to where his friend had fallen out of bed.   
  
"Seamus, are you ok?" he asked.   
  
Seamus Finnigan looked up at his best friend, saw the concern in his eyes, those dark eyes that watched him levelly from across the dinner table, or scrutinized him over a sketchbook. He looked into those eyes and felt the pit of his stomach drop away from him.   
  
"Um, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a dream."   
  
"A nightmare?" Harry asked quietly. In the Gryffindor dorm Harry didn't exactly have a monopoly on bad dreams, but they tended to be the most spectacular, and it was rare for Seamus to be upset enough by his dreams to wake the rest of them.   
  
"Um, no. Not a nightmare. No. Just, just a dream." Seamus was a little incoherent, and his roommates were starting to get a little worried.   
  
"Here Seamus, lets get you back to bed," Dean offered a hand to haul him out of the pile of blankets on the floor. Seamus took it, but when Dean pulled him up he realized they were standing as close together as they had in his dream, and he took in a deep breath.   
  
"Right. Bed. Um, yeah."   
  
Dean looked at him a little worriedly, then laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Seamus," he said quietly. "Are you sure you're ok?"   
  
_Tackling him onto the floor or pulling him onto my bed are NOT productive responses._ Seamus yelled in his head, then looked up at Dean who was taken back by the look in Seamus' eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a weird dream, that's all. I'm going back to sleep."   
  
And Seamus turned to his bed to put his fallen blankets back on it. The other three went back to their beds, and Dean turned to go as well when Seamus' hand grabbed his wrist. He looked back and was dazzled by his friend's smile. "Thanks for being concerned," Seamus said.   
  
"Of, of course," Dean stuttered. "What else   
  
Dean said good night, then returned to his bed where he grabbed his sketchbook and tried to capture the light that had shown in Seamus' eyes, and the brightness that was his smile. He had no idea what it was about his friend's look that had transfixed him, but he knew he wanted to be able to see it again, to capture it on paper. When he finally went back to sleep Seamus' bright blue eyes danced at Dean through his dreams. 


	3. Morning Stretches and Bright Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: The boys, having individually decided they would like to reconsider their relationship, must now come up with the guts to talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: This remains slash, if you don't like it, don't read it.
> 
> Many thanks to the Kicks & Giggles crew for their patience while I was out of the country. Here you go guys.

Seamus Finnigan gave a little yawn and rolled over in his bed. It was early in the morning and he would normally never be awake at this time. However, of late Seamus had been being woken by the dreams that were plaguing him at night. Not that they were unpleasant dreams, not in the least, but they did have a certain ability to unsettle him.   
  
Seamus heard someone moving about in the dorm room he and the other Gryffindor 5th year boys shared. He rolled over again, facing the break he left in the hangings around his bed and was rewarded with the sight of the roommate who was lately a major feature in his dreams, Dean Thomas. The other boy was much more of a morning person, and it wasn't at all unusual for him to be up before the rest of their roommates. Dean was getting ready for the day, and had pulled off his pj top when a yawn caught him. His hand covered his mouth as the muscles in his arms and torso stretched, and Seamus was fascinated by the way Dean followed his yawn with a full body stretch, pulling himself upright and reaching for the ceiling. Dean finished yawning and grabbed up his towel, then headed out to the showers.   
  
"Well then," Seamus whispered to himself, letting his tongue rub against his lower lip. "Right. Something needs to be done about this situation." And he turned back over, away from his room, to consider what to do about both the larger problem of how he wished the relationship between his roommate and himself to change, and the smaller, more pressing problem of his body's reaction to his very hansom best friend.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
The Gryffindor 5th years had taken over an entire corner of the library this year at the insistence of Hermione Granger. Their upcoming OWLs were high on her list of priorities, and she wasn't going to let any of the rest of them forget the tests which came at the end of the year. However, none of the others were at all enthused about the prospect of a year spent in the library poring over books, and they all took whatever chances presented themselves to get away from her strictly regimented study periods.   
  
Quidditch practice made a very good excuse.   
  
Harry was, of course, captaining the team, and the rest of the lineup had remained pretty much the same since he had joined in the boys 1st year. But two years ago the previous captain and keeper had graduated, and when this year's tryouts had been held Seamus had managed to make the team.   
  
A few days after Seamus had awoken to the site of Dean's shirtless stretching the majority of their classmates had been shepherded by Hermione up to the library (although how Lavender Brown had gotten out of it, Seamus had no idea.) They had been up there for almost 3 hours when Harry suddenly sat up and said "Well, that's good timing."   
  
"What is?" Hermione asked, looking up.   
  
"Well, I've just finished my research on the Goblin Rebellions of the 13 hundreds in time for Quidditch practice," Harry replied with a big smile.   
  
"You guys don't have," Ron began, but cut off abruptly as Seamus kicked him under the table.   
  
"That's right," Seamus chimed in. "I'd almost forgotten, I was so caught up in my Herbology notes." The Irish boy shot a winning grin at his doubtful classmate.   
  
"Really guys," Hermione sighed. "I don't know why you play that silly game. Studying is much more important."   
  
"Quidditch isn't silly!" Ron exclaimed at his girlfriend's statement.   
  
But before the two of them could start another little fight Harry stood up. "We've really got to run though, Herm."   
  
"Oh, yeah," Ron paused for a second. "Actually, I think I might go too, see how the team is shaping up."   
  
"Oh no you don't." Hermione grabbed Ron's shoulder and held him to his chair. "You're staying and studying with the rest of us. I can't help it if Harry and Seamus have responsibilities to the team, but you're not getting out of studying. You know you need to work on your transfigurations." Ever since the two of them had started going out, about a week ago, Hermione had become even pushier where Ron was concerned. She seemed to think, and frankly Seamus agreed, that she had the right now that she was his girlfriend.   
  
Ron gave a sigh and turned back at his book while Seamus stood up to join Harry. Dean looked up at them and his twinkling eyes told Seamus that he knew exactly what Harry was up to, but wasn't going to tattle on them since that would get the sketchbook he had hidden behind the text he was supposedly reading reveled. Dean gave them a little smile, and Seamus couldn't help but catch his breath at that. Rather than stand there and stare at his best friend's smiling eyes he turned and followed Harry out of the library.   
  
As they walked along the corridors Seamus decided to ask Harry's opinion on how he should go about trying to broach the subject with his best friend. Of course, he asked with his usual flair.   
  
"Hey, Harry," he started. "If you were going to seduce Ron, what would you do?"   
  
"WHAT?" Harry spun and looked at his roommate.   
  
"I said, 'if you were going to seduce Ron, what would you do?'"   
  
Harry stared at the other boy for a few seconds, then turned and continued down the hall. "I wouldn't," he answered. "Ron's straight."   
  
"Right," Seamus continued. "But if he weren't . . ."   
  
"I wouldn't," Harry said again, in the same aggravated tone. "Ron's straight."   
  
"Ok, but hypothetically speaking, if Ron weren't straight, what would you do to seduce him?"   
  
"Seamus," Harry's voice was starting to sound really angry. "I wouldn't try to seduce Ron, he's not gay. Now drop it."   
  
"Fine, fine," Seamus paused. "Well then, if you were going to seduce Hermione, what would you do?"   
  
Harry glared at Seamus. "I wouldn't seduce Hermione, she dating Ron."   
  
"I know that," Seamus sighed. "But if she weren't, hypothetically, what would you do to seduce her."   
  
"I wouldn't," Harry repeated slowly, as though dealing with a very small child. "Hermione is dating Ron. Now drop the subject."   
  
Seamus glanced over at his famous roommate, the thought about what Harry had said. "So what you're saying, is that you wouldn't seduce Hermione because she's dating someone else, an admirable sentiment. But you wouldn't seduce Ron simply because he's not into you, and if he were you'd be on him like a bunny in heat. Have I got that right?"   
  
"Finnigan," Harry's voice was low and kind of scary. "You know when I said to drop the subject?"   
  
"Um, yeah?"   
  
"Drop the subject," Harry said. "Now. Or else."   
  
"Right, dropping it."   
  
The two continued in silence for a while longer, and then Seamus asked Harry, "So, then, am I to assume that you might be more interested in shagging, say, Draco Malfoy, male sex god, than Ginny Weasley, your sweet and innocent fangirl?"   
  
"Ok, that's it. Come with me." And Harry grabbed his talkative roommate's collar and started to pull him towards the Entrance Hall.   
  
"Where are we going Harry?" Seamus asked. "It's just, we don't actually have practice and I thought we were going up to the tower to hang out and do something that wasn't work."   
  
"We were, but now we're not." Harry replied.   
  
"Then where are we going?"   
  
"Out to the pitch, and you're going to play Keeper, and I'm going to throw balls at your head."   
  
"Oh," Seamus sighed. "I've upset you haven't I?"   
  
"Seamus," Harry began, then paused. "Seamus," he tried again. "You know, you've got the most one track mind I've ever run across," he finally managed.   
  
"That's probably true." The Irish boy admitted as he was dragged out the door and down to the Quidditch pitch.   
  
When they finally reached the field Harry let go of Seamus and turned to him. "Now it's my turn to ask a question. Why has my non-existent sex life suddenly become of such great interest to you?"   
  
"Oh, it's not," Seamus hastily reassured his captain in hopes of getting out of practice. "I was just trying to get some ideas on how one might go about seducing one's best friend."   
  
"I don't think I followed that Seamus. You want to know how I'd seduce a friend?"   
  
"No, I want to know how I should." And Seamus grinned at Harry as he slowly caught on.   
  
"So you want Dean?" he asked. "Since when?"   
  
"Oh, a couple of weeks ago," Seamus answered nonchalantly.   
  
"But you haven't talked to him about it, I assume." And Harry settled to the grass, thoughts of throwing things at his roommate momentarily forgotten.   
  
"Nope, I'm trying to decide how I want to broach the subject." Seamus followed Harry's lead and sat down.   
  
"And you think asking me, The Boy Who's Never Been Laid, is the way to get ideas?"   
  
Seamus grinned, "Well, oh intrepid captain, I figured that it might be a good, fresh perspective on things. Besides, it was as good a way as any of coming out to you, not that I needed to worry, as it turns out."   
  
" _Accio broomsticks!_ " Harry suddenly called out. "Thanks for reminding me about practice." The smile on Harry's face could easily have been described as evil.   
  
Seamus gave a little sigh, and then waited till his and Harry's broomsticks thumped into Harry's waiting hands.   
  
"Let me ask you one thing first," Harry said as they mounted up. "What do you know about what Malfoy's been up to?"   
  
"Malfoy? Nothing. I only mentioned him because he's really hot and I figured, if guys float your boat then he'd be on your top ten to shag list just like the rest of us. Why?"   
  
"Oh, well he wasn't in potions today and I think he's up to something." Harry shrugged.   
  
"Well, he's always up to something isn't he? Trying to get us in trouble, or cheat at Quidditch or something."   
  
"Yeah, but I think he's up to something serious this time."   
  
"Well, if you want to know what Malfoy's been doing, ask Justin Finch-Fletchley." Seamus replied.   
  
"What? Why Justin?"   
  
"He's a Hufflepuff, isn't he? They keep track of the rest of us all the time. It's their way of fighting back against the Slytherin rumor mill. They always know what we're actually doing cause they pay attention."   
  
"Really? I didn't know that." Harry looked startled.   
  
"Oh yeah. If you ever want to know the truth behind one of the rumors going around, or make sure your side of a story is being heard, just talk to a Hufflepuff."   
  
"Hmm. Thanks Seamus," Harry grinned. "Now up. Head over to the goal. You stay there, and I'm going to get the balls. Keep your eyes open, you won't know when I'm coming back, or where from." And with that he kicked off the ground and shot off.   
  
"Damn," Seamus muttered to himself and then followed Harry's lead, heading off to his post by the three goals.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Dean let his pencil glide across the paper, filling in the details of his redheaded roommate's ear. The little sketch of Ron leaning over his textbook with his head on his hand was actually pretty good, even if Dean did say so himself. On the other side of the open book was a portrait of his roommate's sister, Ginny, sitting curled up in one of the comfortable chairs by the fire in the Common Room. She had been studying with Neville and Colin, who were lightly outlined in their respective seats, but it was clear she was the focus of the picture. Her bright red hair seemed almost to glow in the light of the fire which Colin had later told him looked almost as though it were moving on the page.   
  
"Hey Dean," Parvati's voice came from across the table. "You haven't turned the page in the Potions text for almost half an hour. Mind if I use it?" And without waiting for an answer the girl leaned across the table and snatched the book up, reveling his sketchbook behind it.   
  
"Dean!" Hermione scolded. "I thought we'd come up here to do work, and you're goofing off. Here, give me that!" And now Hermione was leaning across the table, reaching for his other book.   
  
"No, wait 'Mione," Dean tried, but it was too late. Hermione already had her hands on it, and rather than risk damaging the book he had to let her take it. "Give it back," he tried.   
  
"No," was her answer. "First I want to see you get some real work done, then you can have it back."   
  
"But I was going to do Potions today and now Parvati's got the book," Dean realized his excuse was rather lame, but couldn't come up with anything better.   
  
"You should have been doing the work before, and it's not Parvati's fault that she also has work to do in Potions," Hermione shot back. "Just go get another book."   
  
"If there'd been another book Parvati could have used it," Dean muttered, but made it quiet enough that Hermione could at least pretend she hadn't heard. Instead of continuing the fight Dean got up and headed into the stacks, ostentatiously looking for another text.   
  
Dean was very glad that Hermione had caught him with his main sketchbook and not the new one. Ever since the night Seamus had woken them with his cry Dean had been trying to capture the look of his friend's eyes on paper and he had even started a smaller, more private book devoted to sketches of Seamus. Some of the drawings were full of the vibrancy and motion of Seamus, all straight lines and quick curves to show his friend's energy. Others were taken in moments of, if not stillness, then at least repose, Seamus curled up in a armchair studying a book that covered his lap, Seamus sitting in class, staring at the lecturing Professor and clearly falling asleep.   
  
Out of these pictures Dean's favorite was a drawing he had done one morning when he'd woken very early. Seamus always slept with his curtains partway open to let in a breeze and that morning when Dean had woken he'd seen Seamus, fast asleep with his head resting on one arm, the other dropped along his stomach. Dean had taken his time with that one, knowing it would be a while before anyone else woke up, and when he looked at it now he could swear he could see Seamus' light breath lifting his chest. Looking at that picture he always felt the urge to reach out and caress the sleeping cheek, or to drop a light kiss onto the eyelids which covered Seamus' bright, beautiful blue eyes. For Dean could admit it to himself now, Seamus was beautiful, full of energy and joy in life. Bordering each of these drawings were small pictures of pairs of blue eyes, twinkling, laughing, sleepy, angry, happy. Each of the eyes was a credit to both the artist and the subject, but none of them seemed right to Dean. None of them captured the look that had been in Seamus' eyes the morning he'd woken them.   
  
When he thought about that look, and the things that had made it up, made it special, he could pin down some things. There had been the trust, shining out of them, the knowledge that Dean was trying to help, and thankfulness for that. There had been some sleepiness, left over from his interrupted rest. And there had been something else, which presumably had been caused by the dream. Something that had made Seamus' eyes dilate and shine in a way Dean didn't think he had seen before, but very much wanted to see again. Something that, when he thought of it, made Dean's breath catch in his throat and his pulse start to quicken. That was what he was trying to capture on paper, and why he was glad Hermione hadn't taken his other sketchbook.   
  
Finally Dean returned to the table the others were working at and by then Parvati had finished with his book. He took it back, set it up in front of him, pulled out some paper to make notes on, and proceeded to once again border the page with bright eyes. With any luck Hermione would not look over and notice that the pencil he was 'taking notes' with was a vibrant blue.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
By the time Seamus made it back to the room he was tired, sore, and sweaty, and, while the practice had taken his mind off of his problems, now they were back and he still didn't know what to do. He decided to take a shower and do some thinking, so he grabbed his towel and headed out.   
  
However, when he reached the dorm bathroom he ran into Ron coming out.   
  
"Hey Seamus, where were you guys?" Ron asked.   
  
"Out on the practice field."   
  
"Why? You didn't really have practice did you?" the redhead looked confused.   
  
"No, but Harry decided I was in need of some work anyway." Seamus gave a little sigh and rubbed at his sore shoulder.   
  
"Huh, I wouldn't have thought he'd be doing any work after getting away from 'Mione. What did you do to annoy him?" Ron grinned.   
  
"You probably don't want to know," said Seamus, for once letting discretion be the better part of, if not valor, at least his conversation.   
  
"Yeah, I guess you might be right. If it was obnoxious enough to piss off Harry it must have been bad, even for you."   
  
"Hey!" Seamus protested. "I'm not _that_ bad!"   
  
"Right," Ron gave a little laugh. "You taking a shower?" He changed the subject suddenly.   
  
"I thought so, why?"   
  
"Oh, just, when you're done Dean wants you to hunt him down. He'll probably be in the library because Hermione caught him with his sketchbook and then swiped it. She says she won't give it back till he shows her he's done some real work today."   
  
"Wow," said Seamus with a sigh. "You know, you're girlfriend is a real dominatrix sometimes."   
  
"Watch it Finnigan," Ron growled. "She's just . . ."   
  
"Pushy? Overbearing? Domineering?" Seamus started to fill in when Ron trailed off, then took a look at Ron's face. "Standing right behind me?" He hazarded.   
  
"Got it in one Seamus," came Hermione's voice.   
  
Seamus gave a sigh and turned to face his pretty classmate. "Hey," he tried a week smile.   
  
"So, how was practice?" she asked sweetly.   
  
"Thorough, and I've got the bruises to prove it," he replied.   
  
"Poor dear," the utter lack of sympathy in her voice was at least countered by her grin. "Ron, Harry wants to talk to you about something Irish boy here told him."   
  
Ron shot the smaller boy a smile, gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek, then hurried out towards the common room.   
  
"So, domineering, am I?" she asked.   
  
"Well, you're the one with Dean's sketchbook!" he shot back with more vehemence than he had intended. "I mean, that is . . ." and he trailed off.   
  
Hermione arched an eyebrow at her friend, then reached into the bag she was carrying. "Here, take it back to him if it's that important." Then she handed Seamus Dean's small leather bound book. "And take a shower first, you smell." She wrinkled her nose at him, then smiled and turned to follow Ron.   
  
"Smart Finnigan," Seamus said to himself. "Why not just tell the entire dorm you're messed up in the head about your bes. . ." and he cut himself off. It was hard to tell who might be standing around listening in these curving corridors. "Right, shower." And he turned away from the direction his friends had taken and entered the bathroom.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Dean was hard at work bent over his notes by the time Seamus entered the library looking for him. He had decided that getting his sketchbook back was, if not more important than drawing his friend, at least easier since Seamus was out practicing. But when the object of his compulsive doodles dropped into the seat across from him he looked up with a smile.   
  
"Hey," Seamus said quietly, not wanting to get yelled at by Madame Pince, but also not wanting to disturb Dean. "Got this back for you." And he handed over the small book.   
  
"Hey thanks," and again the smile that so haunted Seamus graced his lips. "How much of your soul did you have to barter for it?"   
  
"Oh, not much, just my deepest darkest secret." Seamus' tone was light, but there was a seriousness behind it which implied he might not be joking.   
  
Dean decided that a little teasing was in order. "What, the one about the Australian triplets, the spray cheese the puppy dog, and the whip?" his grin widened.   
  
"Nah, that one's old news," Seamus bantered back, although he seemed slightly preoccupied, but suddenly he snapped back to the moment and looked straight at Dean as though he had decided something. "Dean, have you got a thing for Ginny?" he asked.   
  
"What?" Dean was startled. "Why on earth . . ." and he trailed off. "Seamus, you shouldn't have been looking in my sketchbook," he finally said.   
  
"I'm sorry," and the Irish boy dropped his eyes. He really did sound sad, although there seemed to be more to it that just being reprimanded on his manners. "I just wanted to see. You know I like your pictures."   
  
"It's ok," and Dean reached over and touched his friend's hand to get him to look up. He paused, momentarily struck by something he just didn't understand in Seamus' glance, then continued. "No, I've not got a thing for Ginny. I asked her if she'd mind being a model for some sketches because I haven't done enough pictures of girls. Most of my sketches are about the people who are around when I've got pen and paper," he paused, then added quietly, "Most of them are of you."   
  
"Oh," and Seamus' voice was quiet, then the strange look in his eyes shifted to one of his charismatic smiles. "I just wanted to be sure you weren't holding out on any juicy gossip I should know about my best friend."   
  
Dean shook his head, then picked up his pencil again.   
  
"I should probably leave you to your work," Seamus said and stood up, but instead of leaving he slid around the table till he was standing over Dean's shoulder. He looked down, and Dean knew he could see the doodles that bordered his parchment. He wondered if Seamus would be able to tell who's bright blue eyes were staring back at him.   
  
"Hey Dean," and Seamus laid his hand on his friend's shoulder, causing the taller boy to look up at him. "I'd really like to see some of your sketches of me someday." And Dean was struck again by the beauty of the smaller boy's features and the light that shined through his eyes.   
  
"Um, yeah . . ." Dean started, then gave a little swallow. "Yeah, sure." And he paused, then added quietly, "Someday."   
  
And Seamus squeezed Dean's shoulder and left the library. As he exited Dean's eyes were riveted to his back, watching him till he turned the corner, then Dean released a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding.   
  
"I think," Dean muttered to himself. "I think, I need to talk to Hermione." And he let his head fall against the back of his chair as his tongue slipped out to try and wet his suddenly dry mouth.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
"Hermione?" Dean's quiet voice interrupted the girl working in the corner of the common room.   
  
"Hmm," she looked up. "Oh, Dean. You've already got your sketchbook back, haven't you? Seamus rescued it from me."   
  
"Yeah, I've got it. And look, I even did some actual work while I was in the library." He showed her the notes he'd taken on his Potions text, but Hermione's eyes were drawn to the pretty doodles surrounding the notes.   
  
"I can see that," she smiled. "So, you've got your book back, what's up? Not many people hunt me down for idle chitchat."   
  
"Well," Dean started, hoping to explain his problem, then paused. "That's probably true, isn't it?" He asked quietly. "I'm sorry if you think we, well, if . . ." and he trailed off.   
  
"Don't worry about it," Hermione reassured her tall friend. "I know none of you mean anything, and I'm glad to be of help when people come to me with questions and problems."   
  
"But, do you ever get the chance to off load your problems?" Dean asked.   
  
"Of course," and the pretty girl smiled. "Why do you think I keep Ron around? Look," she suddenly changed the topic. "I think you've got something on your mind. Want to grab a chair and tell me about it?"   
  
"Yeah, thanks." Dean pulled another chair over to the table Hermione was sitting at and settled into it, then, instead of starting to talk just stared at the fire.   
  
"You know," said Hermione after about 2 minutes. "You'd be amazed how much use can come of my help if you actually bother to get it."   
  
"What?" Dean looked up, startled.   
  
"That is, why don't you talk to me, because I'm going to bet you don't want me trying to guess what your problem is."   
  
"Um, right," Dean decided not to think about what his observant friend might have seen in his behavior over the past few weeks. "Well, ok. Let's say there's this fully hypothetical guy . . ." Dean paused, wincing at the obviousness of his beginning.   
  
"Right," Hermione smiled. "Absolutely hypothetical person of the male persuasion. I can handle that. And?"   
  
"Ok, this guy has a friend, a good friend," and again Dean paused, not entirely sure where he was going.   
  
"Good to know. I'm glad our hypothetical male has at least one friend. Tell me something about the friend."   
  
Dean panicked a bit at that. "Nothing to tell really. Just a friend, a normal, everyday sort of friend. But the thing is, our, our very hypothetical guy has been thinking about his friend. A lot. A lot, a lot."   
  
"Ok, define a lot. Has he been thinking about his friend when the friend's not there, or just when the friend is? What about during times when the friend is there, but our hypothetical guy should have been thinking about other things, like, say, Potions?" The girl smiled at this.   
  
Dean blushed, then shoved his Potions notes into his bag. "Definitely not just when the friend is there, and also when the guy ought to be doing other things."   
  
"What kind of things has the guy been thinking?" Hermione tried to pull Dean out a bit. "Does it upset him that he's thinking these things, or are they just normal, friend like things?"   
  
"Not, not upset exactly." Dean paused, then rushed on. "Mostly he's been thinking about his friend's smile, and, and hi . . . the friend's eyes."   
  
Hermione carefully covered her notice of Dean's small slip. "What about them? That they're good, bad, need work?"   
  
"Perfect. They're perfect," and for a second Dean seemed pulled out of himself, absorbed in something Hermione couldn't see, but could guess at.   
  
"And by 'A lot, a lot' you mean?"   
  
"Obsessed," Dean's voice was hard. "He's totally focused on his friend when the friend's around, or when he's just left, or coming, or . . ." and Dean trailed off, realizing he'd given something away.   
  
Hermione just smiled. "But you say it doesn't upset him that he's, obsessed if you will, with his friend?"   
  
"Um, um no. It's just, well. He's worried."   
  
"About?" Hermione wasn't sure whether or not she ought to keep the charade of the hypothetical guy up or not. She couldn't tell how much Dean was resting on it, and she really needed to know, given Seamus' outburst earlier and his quite statement as she was leaving the Irish boy, just how comfortable Dean was with what he was talking about.   
  
"Well, lots of things. Like, what if his friend's not interested, or what if people will say it's wrong, or," and Dean paused again, clearly thinking about something else now. "Or what if his parent's disapprove."   
  
Hermione thought about this. She didn't know much about the Thomas family, only that they were full Muggles like her own parents. "Well," she started. "I guess there are some things even a hypothetical guy needs to think about."   
  
"Yeah," and Dean seemed momentarily defeated.   
  
"I've got a question for you," Hermione said, and Dean looked up. "If our hypothetical boy with his very good friend could choose one of those things, or something else, like getting rid of his feelings entirely. If he could choose one thing to not need to worry about, what would it be?"   
  
Now Dean looked Hermione straight in the eye, and there seemed to be a sort of resolution to his manner. "Not to need to worry that his friend didn't like him, that his friend would be upset by all of it, or that his friend wouldn't feel the same."   
  
_Good_ , Hermione thought. _He's serious._ "Well, that might be considered three things, but I get the feeling that all three of them would be solved in the same manner. Ok, now, what if our hypothetical guy had some other, equally hypothetical friend who was very observant and also reasonably certain that our guy's friend did in fact feel much the same way about him." Dean's eyes started to shine at her, and she had to stop and think how she wanted to phrase what she was saying. "Do you think, given that possibility, our guy would be able to face up to the other things he's worried about?"   
  
"Of course," Dean's voice was sure. "You know that 'Mione, you've got Ron. When somebody loves you, you can face up to anything."   
  
Hermione smiled at that. "Well, it's good to know our hypothetical male has such strength of character," she paused, then sat back in her chair. "On another note, I think you might want to know that Seamus came in a bit ago and went up to you guys' room. Harry and Ron are down raiding the kitchen and Neville's sitting over with Ginny right now, so . . ." she trailed off.   
  
"Right," and Dean took a deep breath. "Thanks Hermione, thanks for everything." And the boy stood up, then paused. "Um, by reasonably certain, what might our hypothetical guy's hypothetically observant friend mean?"   
  
"Dean," Hermione said. "Really, there are some questions which can only be answered in person, and very few of them are hypothetical."   
  
Dean smiled at the gentle chiding, then squared his shoulders as though about to set off to battle and headed for the stairs up to the dorms.


	4. Many Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Dean and Seamus are in love, and the world as they know it is going to recieve a pretty big shock. What does Malfoy have to do with it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: Guess what? It's still slash. :D

As Dean pushed open the door to his dorm room he saw his roommate and best friend sitting tailor style on his bed. Seamus had a notebook open on his lap and was sucking lightly on the sugar quill he was writing with. Dean watched him for a few minutes, just marveling at his friend's grace while writing. He knew that most people weren't aware that Seamus wrote fiction stories, although given his skill with words and his love of talking Dean hadn't been surprised to find it out. Seamus must have been working for a while because the quill was about halfway gone. Dean found Seamus' writing habits very funny; the Irish boy would work for as long as a quill lasted and then come back out of whatever world he was creating. Seamus claimed that if he didn't limit himself he might get lost in one of his fictional worlds.   
  
As Dean watched Seamus' hand work it's way across the paper, designing worlds every bit as fantastic as their creator, a smile stole across his face. Even if Hermione was wrong Dean knew he needed to talk with his friend about what he had been thinking and feeling. Watching Seamus like this, he knew he wanted to go over and slide his arm around Seamus' waist, pulling him close and reading over his work. He wanted to show him all the sketches of him, and get him to hold still for portraits, and get more drawings like the one of Seamus sleeping in the dorm. Finally resolved, Dean spoke up, breaking Seamus out of his reverie.   
  
"Hey Seamus," Dean's voice was light, but he wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want to startle his friend or just because he didn't have the strength to be louder.   
  
Seamus looked up, and seeing who it was gave a smile. "Hey Dean, what's up?"   
  
"I just wanted to come find you."   
  
"Well, here I am," Seamus gestured to with his hands around the room. "What can I do for you?"   
  
A number of possible answers flitted across Dean's mind, but he couldn't figure out what he really wanted to say, or how to say it. "Um, I just wanted to talk."   
  
"Oh, well come here," Seamus slid over on his bed, making space for Dean to sit down. As Dean crossed the room Seamus closed his notebook and set it on his bed stand, along with the quill. "Talk about what?" he asked once Dean had gotten settled.   
  
"Well," and now Dean stalled. "I just, wanted to know what was up with you, how you were doing."   
  
"I'm fine, you know that," Seamus' smile again disarmed Dean. "It's not like you don't see me every day."   
  
"Yeah, I know, but . . . well . . . I don't know, I kind of wondered . . . oh I don't know." Dean broke off.   
  
"Is something wrong with you?" Seamus looked concerned. "Has something happened?"   
  
"Um, well, yeah. Kind of. But not a bad thing or anything." Dean silently cursed his lack of comfort with words. He could draw exactly what he meant, and felt, but he couldn't say it.   
  
Dean knew he was starting to look distressed because Seamus leaned over and put his hand on Dean's arm, distracting him further. "Is there something I can help with?"   
  
"Well, yes," Dean tried to grab the opening, then stalled. "But I don't know how to tell you." He paused, but Seamus seemed willing to let him go on at his own pace and so the silence stretched out. Dean noticed that Seamus hadn't moved his hand yet.   
  
"Dean," Seamus finally said, shifting so he was kneeling next to Dean on the bed. "Dean, you know I'd do anything for you, right? All you have to do is let me know what you want me to do."   
  
Dean heard the double meaning which could be attached to Seamus' words, but had trouble believing Seamus could mean it that way. He looked up into his friend's eyes and saw once again the look in Seamus' eyes he'd been trying so hard to capture. Without thinking he said, "There it is!"   
  
"There what is?" Seamus began to look confused, but Dean reached out and placed both hands on Seamus' cheeks, holding him still.   
  
"The look," Dean knew he wasn't being very coherent but he couldn't help it. "The look in your eyes, I've been looking for it. I've been trying to draw it, to understand it."   
  
"What look in my eyes," and Seamus' eyes once again softened, shining out with that strange light. Dean leaned forward to get a better look then realized how close he was sitting to Seamus. Before he could lean back again though, Seamus' hand tightened on Dean's arm, holding him in place.   
  
"Dean," and now it was Seamus' turn to be hesitant. "Dean . . ."   
  
"Yes?" Dean was entranced with his friend's features, he didn't think he'd ever had such a good look at the line of Seamus' nose, the color of his skin, or the fullness of his lips.   
  
And as Dean focused on Seamus' lips his friend's tongue slipped out to wet them, as though Seamus' mouth had gone dry, then he started again. "Dean, what would you say," and Seamus began to lean closer.   
  
"Yes?" Dean asked quietly when Seamus paused.   
  
"What would you say if I asked," Seamus' voice had dropped almost to a whisper and Dean leaned forward to hear him until their noses were almost touching.   
  
"Yes," Dean quietly repeated himself.   
  
"What would you say if I," Seamus seemed to pull himself together to finish his question. "If I asked if I could kiss you?"   
  
"Yes," Dean repeated again, then made the meaning of his statement clearer by leaning forward and pressing his lips to his friend's, letting the hands which had been cupping Seamus' cheeks slide down, caressing his neck then dropping down behind his shoulders as Seamus' arms slid around his waist.   
  
The kiss was sweet, innocent, and wonderful. It was everything Dean could have wished and more than he had ever hopped. It summed up exactly the feeling he got in his stomach when he saw Seamus smile at him, and he suspected it was all that Seamus had held in his eyes when he glanced at Dean with the look that had haunted him in his sleep.   
  
Slowly the kiss ended, and Dean leaned back lightly, then rested his forehead on Seamus'. "I think I finally know what the look I was trying to capture was. It was love . . ." Dean trailed off.   
  
"Yes," and Seamus smiled as he repeated Dean's earlier answer, then leaned forward to kiss him again.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
They were sitting quietly on Seamus' bed talking, having slid slightly apart because they didn't know when one of their roommates might be coming upstairs.   
  
"Hey Seamus, I want to show you my sketchbook," Dean blushed a little at this, although Seamus wasn't sure why.   
  
"Dean, I've seen it, remember. I know I shouldn't have looked without asking . . ." Dean's hand covered Seamus' mouth, cutting him off.   
  
"No, not that one. I've got another one that I want you to," but Dean was cut off by a loud noise coming from down the stairs. "What was that?" Dean was startled.   
  
"No idea," and Seamus got up from the bed to open the door. Once it was open they could make out words from the common room.   
  
"What do . . . mean? How . . . attacked?!"   
  
"That sounded like Ginny," Dean sounded worried, and got up to follow Seamus to the door.   
  
" . . . think . . . must have . . . Voldemort . . ." Harry was the only boy they knew who ever called You-Know-Who by his proper name, so that had to have been him. Looking at each other the two boys began to run down the stairs.   
  
As they neared the bottom more of the yelling became clear, many people seemed to be babbling and over them rose Ron's voice. " . . . were looking for . . . Ernie said . . . but when we got to . . . found Justin, just lying there." Dean and Seamus burst out from the stairwell just as Professor McGonagall hurried into the room.   
  
"Potter, Weasley, I need you to come to the Headmaster's office with me now." Their stern eyed Head of House looked worried and must have been in a rush, because once Harry and Ron turned to face her she headed back out the portrait hole, leaving the two boys to rush after her.   
  
"What's happened?" Dean looked around as Hermione answered him.   
  
"Harry and Ron found Justin Finch-Fletchley lying on the ground of the Greenhouse, bleeding. They think he was attacked because most of the plants in the building had been destroyed."   
  
"And they think You-Know-Who did it?" Seamus looked aghast, but Dean didn't wait for an answer.   
  
"Come on Seamus," he grabbed the smaller boys hand and began to pull him towards the exit of the Gryffindor dorm.   
  
"Where are you going?" Hermione's sharp tone pulled Dean up short.   
  
"To the hospital wing to see if Justin's ok," Dean answered.   
  
"No you're not. Professor McGonagall told us to stay here." Hermione sounded annoyed.   
  
"She didn't," Seamus said quickly. "She didn't say anything except 'Potter, Weasley, I need you to come to the Headmaster's office with me now'." Seamus' imitation of their head of house was excellent, but in the madness no one noticed.   
  
"Well I'm sure she would have said it if she hadn't had so much else to worry about. Besides, I'm a prefect and I'm saying it. Everyone should just stay here until the professors know more about what happened."   
  
However Dean tugged on Seamus' arm and started for the portrait hole again.   
  
"Where are you going?!" Hermione sounded very angry.   
  
"Justin's a friend of mine," now Dean rounded on the girl sounding just as angry. "I am going to see if he's ok."   
  
"And if he's not? There's nothing you can do for him. Madame Pomfrey will help him." Hermione tried to sound reasonable but Dean just shook his head.   
  
"What would you do if it was Harry or Ron?" he shot back, then dropped Seamus' arm. "I'm going," he said, then ran out of the tower.   
  
Seamus turned to follow him and Hermione rounded on him. "And where are you going?" she asked in exasperation.   
  
"To see if Dean's ok," Seamus said, tight lipped. "And don't try to tell me there's nothing I can do for _him_." Hermione looked at him for a second then nodded and he shot out the door after his friend.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
"Dean!" Seamus cried out, running after the taller boy. "Dean, hold up!"   
  
Dean stopped racing through the corridors and allowed Seamus to catch up. "I'm not . . ." he started, but Seamus interrupted him.   
  
"Let's go," he said, and caught at Dean's hand. The two walked in companionable silence for a bit, before Dean started to talk.   
  
"What do you think happened?" he asked.   
  
"I don't know, but if Harry thinks it was You-Know-Who, well, he would know, wouldn't he?" Seamus' voice was quiet and worried.   
  
"But, how could he have gotten into the school to attack someone?"   
  
"The greenhouse isn't in the school, it's outside." But Seamus didn't sound very sure of himself.   
  
"It's still on the grounds though," Dean led them around another corner towards the hospital wing. "You'd think the wards and guards and things would stop him."   
  
"Well, maybe he had help getting here, or, maybe it wasn't him," Seamus sounded hopeful. "You'd think if You-Know-Who went to all the trouble of getting on the grounds he'd at least attack Harry and not just some random kid out in the green house."   
  
"But Justin's not just some random kid, is he?" Dean said. "He's Muggle born." Seamus didn't have an answer to that, but he gave Dean's hand a squeeze. Then, in the silence they had let drop around them they heard a quiet sniffle from up ahead. Seamus paused, and Dean tried to peer ahead. "What do you think that was?" Dean asked quietly.   
  
"It sounded like someone was crying, or trying not to," but Seamus looked worried. "The other houses ought to know what happened, and Hermione's right, people shouldn't be out until we know more about what's going on." Dean gave him a look at that. "I just mean," he said quickly, "that whoever is out here probably shouldn't be."   
  
The two quietly continued down the hall, trying to hear which direction the occasional muffled sound came from. Slowly they pulled level with a partly closed door and pushed it open halfway. There they were confronted with the sight of Draco Malfoy, sitting on a desk at the front of an unused classroom with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around them. He didn't look like he'd been crying, but it appeared as though he might start soon.   
  
Dean looked at Seamus, who shrugged back at him then turned to leave the Slytherin to his problems. Unfortunately he bumped the open door with his shoulder and, although the thump was quiet, it seemed to be enough to alert Malfoy to their presence.   
  
"Finnigan, Thomas, what are you doing here?" Malfoy's voice was steady and controlled as it always was, although something seemed different to Dean's ear. Maybe something really had upset the other boy.   
  
"We could ask the same of you Malfoy," Seamus shot back. "You don't own the school and you don't get to question students' whereabouts." The Irish boy had a quick temper and often found the aristocrat's manner to be very abrasive.   
  
"Well, I am one of the Slytherin prefects," the blond reminded them in a tone that boded ill for their interruption, but then he seemed to deflate. "Go away or points will be taken."   
  
"Look you stuffed up little . . ." Seamus began, but Dean stopped him.   
  
"Come on Seamus," and Dean rested his hand on the smaller boy's shoulder. "He's not worth our time and Justin is. Let's go."   
  
"Off to see Finch-Fletchley, are you?" Draco's question caught Dean off guard as he turned to leave. "And what do you think you can do for him?"   
  
"Be there for him. He's my friend and I want to see if he's ok."   
  
"I doubt he is," Draco's answer seemed ominous.   
  
"And what do you know of it?" Dean turned on him angrily. "Are you the one who let some Death Eater on campus to attack him, or maybe you did it yourself."   
  
"Stuff it, Mudblood," was Malfoy's only answer.   
  
"Don't you call him that!" Seamus was incensed. "You're nothing but a petty two-bit villain and not worth the ink under his fingernails."   
  
Malfoy looked taken aback at this, and Dean couldn't help but glance at his hands to see that, in fact, there was rather a lot of ink under his nails. He blushed a little at Seamus' having noticed, and Malfoy caught the blush.   
  
"Oh, is that how it is then?" the Slytherin suddenly looked rather like a cat which had just sighted a bright, innocent, and unwary cannery. "Not just Mudbloods are we? No, we've got to be flying for the other team as well, eh?" Dean didn't quite catch the reference but suspected it probably wasn't a nice thing from the way Seamus was turning red.   
  
"Look you little . . ." Seamus looked about ready to leap into the room and pound on Malfoy when steps were heard running down the corridor they had come from. Harry suddenly burst around the corner and skidded to a stop next to the two boys.   
  
"There you are," he said, a little out of breath. "When you didn't make it up to the Hospital Wing Professor Dumbledore got worried and sent me to find you. What kept you?"   
  
"This ratbag," and Seamus, not wondering how Harry and the Headmaster had ended up in the Hospital Wing, gestured into the room at Malfoy, still sitting curled up on the desk.   
  
Harry glanced into the room, then took a better look. "Malfoy," he spit out. "What the hell are you doing here?"   
  
"None of your business Potter," he shot back.   
  
"I'm making it my business. Where have you been all afternoon? Where were you when Justin was attacked? What do you know about it?"   
  
"None of your business," the blond drawled. "None of your business, and, oh yes, none of your business. Where do you get off grilling me? What I do with my time is my own choice."   
  
"Not now it's not. You've been up to something all year . . ."   
  
"All year?" Draco interrupted. "How 'all year'? We've only been back for two months."   
  
"Well, you've been up to something for two months then, and I want to . . ."   
  
"Potter, what on earth makes you think I've been up to something?" and now the blond was innocence personified, although none of the Gryffindors were buying it. Dean, who was used to looking at people and seeing what was really there was the only one to notice the way Malfoy's eyes kept shifting around the room, and his feet were moving as though he was twitching his toes in his shoes.   
  
"You're a Malfoy. Whenever something bad happens I think you're involved. You're a little shit and . . ."   
  
"That's right. I'm a Malfoy!" and now Draco was on his feet, yelling at Harry. "I'm a goddamned Malfoy! What of it? Oh, that's right, Malfoy is synonymous with Dark Arts, I'd forgotten. Silly me!"   
  
"Yes, that's right," and Harry was yelling right back. "Malfoy does equal Dark Arts in my book. You're a Slytherin, you frequent Knockturn Alley, your father has an extra cellar of Dark Arts materials, your father gave Ginny Voldemort's old diary, your father was a Death Eater, and still is, your father . . ."   
  
"My father, my father, my FATHER!" Malfoy practically screamed. "I am NOT my fucking FATHER! Do you understand? Do you people hear me? I am my own person and will make my own fucking decisions!"   
  
"And your decisions got Justin hurt." Harry spit out, pulling Malfoy up and stopping his yelling entirely.   
  
"Go ahead, blame it on me," Draco had become very quiet. "But I'm telling you, I had nothing to do with it."   
  
"Yeah, right. I'll believe that when . . ." Harry was interrupted.   
  
"If you didn't," Dean said. "If you didn't, then who did?"   
  
Draco seemed to deflate for a second, as though the loss of momentum provided by his argument with his nemesis would cause him to fall over, then regained himself. "I'll give you three guesses Thomas, and the first two don't count."   
  
"Your father?" now it was Seamus' turn to surprise Harry with his input.   
  
"Give the boy a prize," Draco turned away from the three Gryffindors arrayed in the doorway, and looked around the room, as though seeing it for the first time, or not seeing it at all.   
  
"Malfoy, did you know it was going to happen?" Draco looked up at Dean's voice and saw that the black boy had stepped into the room at last and was crossing to where he stood. "Did you know Justin was going to be attacked."   
  
Draco sighed. "Not really."   
  
"That's not good enough Malfoy," Harry finally spoke up again, quietly, as though stunned to be having such a conversation with Draco Malfoy. "How 'not really'?"   
  
"Really not really," Malfoy gave a small, wry smile, then sobered. "I knew they were up to something. It would be pretty fucking hard not to know that. I didn't know any details though. I didn't know time, or place, or person, or anything. Just," and he sighed. "Just that something was up."   
  
"How is that possible?" Now it was Harry's turn to step into the room. He walked across the floor and stopped a body's length from Malfoy. "How could you not know?"   
  
"No," Draco said. "No. I won't talk about this. Not now."   
  
"Then when?" Seamus asked, coming in to join Dean.   
  
"Not with you at any rate," Malfoy shot back, then turned to face the boy he'd faced off against so many times. "Potter, you want to know what I know, meet me tonight, down outside the Main Entrance. I'm ready to talk, but you'd better come alone. I don't want to see the Weasel or his too-smart-for-her-own-good girlfriend. Or these two poufs," he added, almost as an after thought.   
  
"And if I don't come?" Harry asked.   
  
"You don't come, you don't learn what I have to say. You don't find out what I know about my father's activities. You don't get to know why I'm going to talk to you, and you don't discover the thing I know you want to know most in the world; why I'm not in league with my father any more." This tact admission of his previous compliance in his father's work didn't seem to startle Harry, who just nodded at the blond boy. "I'll see you tonight. Or I won't." And Draco strode out of the classroom, leaving Dean and Seamus staring after him.   
  
"I don't think you'd better go," Seamus finally said, turning to face his famous roommate. But Harry didn't answer. "Really Harry, I . . ."   
  
"Seamus," Dean spoke up. "This one's Harry's call. Come on," and he tugged on Seamus' sleeve. "Let's go see Justin."   
  
"Um, yeah, right." Seamus nodded at Dean, then looked back at Harry, who had turned to face the desk Draco had been sitting at. "Harry, you want to come?"   
  
"No, that's ok," Harry finally answered. "I think I'm going to go back to the tower." Dean and Seamus started to head out the door when Harry's voice stopped them. "Hey, Seamus," and the Irish boy looked back to see his friend grinning at him. "You ever get around to dealing with that thing we talked about before Quidditch practice?"   
  
Seamus blushed and Dean looked at him a little questioningly. When Seamus didn't meet his eyes he caught on, then grinned back at Harry. "Well, if by that thing you mean me, then yeah," and he slung an arm around Seamus' shoulders. "He did."   
  
"Congrats then, you two deserve each other."   
  
"Right, well," Seamus found his tongue again. "I think we're just going to go see Justin, if that's ok."   
  
"That's fine," Harry's eyes turned serious. "I hope he's ok."   
  
"Yeah, me too," Dean said, then the two boys headed out, leaving the third to think about all the things he had learned this evening.


	5. The Oddity That is Draco Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Harry has had his meeting with Draco Malfoy, and is willing to tell the boys what happend, if they can ever manage to hunt him down. What is wrong with Justin Finch-Fletchley? Is he going to be ok?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: Yep, you got it, still slash.

Dean Thomas sighed, put his textbook down, stood up and crossed out of the Gryffindor 5th year boys' dorm. He made his way down the stairs into the common room. There he was greeted by the sight he had been expecting. Seamus Finnigan, his best friend, roommate, and of late something far more important, was curled up in one of the chairs by the fire, waiting.   
  
"Seamus," Dean called softly. "Seamus, it's late. You ought to go to bed."   
  
"I'm waiting for Harry," the smaller blond boy answered.   
  
"I know you are, but Seamus," Dean paused, then smiled. "He's not going to want to be jumped on with questions when he comes back. He'll tell us what happened tonight with Malfoy when he's ready."   
  
"That's not why I'm waiting," Seamus said. "I just want to make sure Harry comes back." The boys' roommate, Harry Potter, had gone to a meeting tonight with his apparent nemesis, Draco Malfoy, to learn what information Malfoy had to give. The offer had been too tempting to resist, and both boys knew that Harry hadn't had a choice but to go and find out why the Slytherin claimed to not have anything to do with the latest attack at Hogwarts. However, neither Dean nor Seamus was very comfortable with having their roommate wandering around after dark, especially not to meet Malfoy, when one of their friends had already been attacked this year.   
  
"He'll be fine Seamus. Malfoy's not stupid enough to hurt him when he knows that we know Harry went to talk to him."   
  
Seamus gave him a look. "Yeah, we know. Did you know we're the only ones who do?"   
  
"What do you mean?" Dean was confused.   
  
"Harry didn't tell Ron or Hermione where he was going tonight. Just us. Now I intend to make sure he makes it back ok."   
  
"Oh," Dean said, then dropped into a chair near Seamus'. "In that case, I think I'll wait with you." Both boys sat quietly, Seamus idly kicking a foot against the leg of his chair and Dean thinking about what Seamus had told him. "You know," Dean finally interrupted the silence. "It's really not that odd that he didn't tell Ron and Hermione. I mean, Ron hates Malfoy and would flip out at him, and Hermione . . ."   
  
"Hermione would just want to offer advice, or suggestions, or tell him not to go," Seamus finished. "Yeah, I know. And I know the only reason we found out is because we were there when Malfoy made the offer. But still . . ." Seamus trailed off.   
  
"Indeed," Dean nodded, and the two lapsed back into silence.   
  
Their wait didn't last that much longer, and before 10 minutes were up the portrait hole swung open and Harry crawled through. He stretched as he stepped out into the common room, then caught sight of Seamus and Dean. "Hey guys," he said, a little warily.   
  
"Hey Harry, you ok?" Dean asked.   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, then yawned. "Tired, but fine. No hexes, curses, or even bruises." Harry grinned at his roommates, clearly aware why they were waiting up for him.   
  
"That's good to hear," Seamus said, then got up. "I think I'm going to head to bed then."   
  
"What, no questions?" Harry looked surprised. "No demands for information? Not even one careless mention of Draco Malfoy, Slytherin sex god?"   
  
Dean was confused at this last, but Seamus just grinned. "Nah, I figure, you'll tell us in your own time what he said, and as long as your time doesn't take more than I day, I can wait."   
  
Harry smiled at that, and nodded. "Ok, deal. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow. I want to get your opinions before I bring some things up with Ron anyway." Harry also headed up towards the stairs, then paused and turned back to where Seamus was standing next to Dean's chair. "But Seamus," and the other boy looked serious this time. "I don't want to hear anything about sex gods, ok?"   
  
The Irish boy grinned, then pretended to look innocent. "Of course not. I'd never dream of harassing my favorite and only team captain about his illicit late night meeting with Slytherin's most shaggable male."   
  
Harry sighed, shot Seamus a look which clearly said he meant his warning, then continued up the stairs.   
  
"What was that about?" Dean asked his friend.   
  
"Oh, nothing." At Dean's disbelieving look Seamus laughed. "I'll tell you about it later, promise. Right now I just want to go to bed." Seamus gave Dean a hand up and the two headed up to their room after Harry.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
The morning dawned clear and bright, the sun rising through the window of the boys' dormitory. Seamus, never one to appreciate a pretty sunrise, groaned at the light seeping through the crack in his bed hangings and rolled over, trying to get back to sleep. But the voice of one of his roommates distracted him.   
  
"What kept you out so late last night Harry?" the voice could only be Ron.   
  
"I wasn't all that late," came Harry's evasive response.   
  
"Well, I must have already been asleep cause I didn't hear you come in."   
  
"No?" Harry's voice held a false note in it's questioning tone. "That's odd, Dean and Seamus were still up."   
  
"Huh," the sound of Ron's voice grated lightly as it reflected the face he must have been making at his friend. "I don't even want to know what they were doing up so late."   
  
"Watch it," Seamus answered from his bed, sitting up and pulling the hangings aside to glare. "Just be glad that he's in his bed this morning and I'm over here." Seamus grinned to show he was just teasing, the grin slipping away when Dean's voice came from inside his bed, he hadn't realized the other boy was awake yet.   
  
"And am I supposed to be glad of that fact too Seamus?" Dean's face, when it appeared matched the smile in his tone.   
  
"Jesus guys," the boys' fifth roommate finally chimed in. "It's dawn! Why on earth are you all up?" Neville Longbottom stuck his head out from behind his curtains, scowling.   
  
"No idea," Harry answered. "I think Ron must have gone to bed too early last night, otherwise he'd never be waking me up this early."   
  
"I just wanted to know what you were doing so late last night," the redhead persisted.   
  
"Hey Ron," Dean spoke up, distracting the other boy. "How on earth did you know about Seamus and me?"   
  
"Yeah, we hadn't told you yet," Seamus chimed in, pulling the others' attention farther from Harry. "Now you've gone and ruined the surprise."   
  
"Oh, well," Ron blushed a little. "Hermione mentioned something, and it just fit with the way you've both been acting all year."   
  
"Honestly guys," Neville added. "It's not like you were being all that discreet. Dean, you've been mooning over Seamus for months," Dean spluttered, and Seamus' quite "He has?" went unnoticed. "And Seamus, well hell. Everything you think gets written across that cute face and those bright eyes of yours."   
  
"Cute face?" it was Seamus' turn to splutter.   
  
"Neville," Dean started, then stopped.   
  
"Yes?" the smaller boy asked.   
  
"Neville?" Harry's voice held a similar note of inquiry, although he got no further with his question, trailing off as though confounded by what to ask.   
  
"Yes?" Neville sounded quite amused, although he didn't offer any other information.   
  
"Neville!" Seamus finally managed to get out.   
  
Neville paused, then grinned and said "No," before pulling the curtains around his bed closed. "Good night, and be quiet!" came out, slightly muffled from under the fabric.   
  
"Well that was sufficiently surreal for one morning," Harry said.   
  
"Um, yeah," Ron agreed.   
  
"I think I'm going to follow his example and . . ."   
  
Dean interrupted Harry with a grin, "Make a pass at Seamus?"   
  
Seamus just spluttered some more, and Neville's voice resounded through the room with a definite "I did not!"   
  
"Good to know," Dean's response was so quiet Seamus almost didn't hear it, but when he glanced over at his friend he could swear the look on his face was almost possessive.   
  
" . . . Go to bed," Harry finally finished, then firmly closed the curtains around his bed.   
  
"We've only got about an hour before the alarms go off," Ron said, and Seamus glared at him.   
  
"Right, and I intend to enjoy them!" The Irish boy went to pull his curtains, but paused to smile at Dean. "Good night," he said, a little more quietly.   
  
"Yes, good night," Dean nodded at Ron, and followed suit, leaving the redhead the only one not trying to sleep.   
  
"Well, huh," Ron's mutter could be just barely heard through the velvet curtains. "Only, I still want to know what Harry . . ."   
  
"Good night, Ron," came Neville's voice, distinctly.   
  
"Right, sorry," he said, and the room became silent once more.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
This first half of the days classes were over, and the students were all sitting in the Great Hall having lunch before Seamus got a chance to talk to his elusive roommate.   
  
"Harry," he leaned over the table and said quietly. "When are you going to spill the beans?"   
  
"Not here," came Harry's equally quiet response. Ron was sitting with Hermione chatting and not paying attention but Harry clearly didn't want to do anything that would endanger that state. "Meet me in the library after Charms this afternoon. We can talk there."   
  
"Are you kidding?" Dean asked. "Hermione's sure to be in there."   
  
"No, she's not," Seamus answered for Harry. "She and Neville are going to do a private practice session in one of the unused classrooms. He's worried about his grades more than usual this year."   
  
"And Ron would never voluntarily look in there, so it'll be a good chance to talk," Harry added.   
  
"Hey, Harry!" a voice yelled from further down the table, ending their discussion. Harry turned to deal with the person who had hailed him and the other two boys went back to lunch.   
  
Dean finished and started to stand, assuming the faster Irish boy must also be done, when Seamus grabbed his wrist. "Wait up," he said.   
  
The taller boy dropped back into his seat and glanced at his friend, who seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time with his meal. "What's up?" he asked.   
  
"Watch," Seamus whispered, nodding his head over towards the other tables. Dean looked to where Seamus was so intently, albeit discreetly staring. There he saw Draco Malfoy, finishing up his meal, slightly impeded by the way he kept glancing over at the Gryffindor table. Dean looked back at Seamus and raised his eyebrows.   
  
"Aren't you guys done yet?" Ron's voice came before Seamus could answer Dean's look.   
  
"Not quite," Seamus said quickly. "You guys go ahead and we'll catch up." The other boy shrugged and he and the rest of the 5th years headed out towards the charms classroom.   
  
Seamus kept his eyes trained on the Slytherin table, and Dean, following his example, saw Malfoy watching Harry's retreating back, then give himself a little shake. The blond boy seemed to come back to himself and pushed away what little was left of his meal. He said something to one of his friends at the table, then the majority of Slytherin's stood up to go to their next class.   
  
"So," said Dean, turning back to Seamus who was quickly finishing and gathering his things. "What was that about?"   
  
"No idea," the Irish boy answered, hopping out of his seat and waiting while Dean followed suit. "But I looked up and noticed Malfoy glancing over at the table about 10 minutes into lunch. Can't tell when he started, but he was watching us about one out of every five minutes."   
  
"Huh," said Dean. "Weird."   
  
"Yeah," agreed Seamus, then set off for the exit of the hall at a quick pace. "Come on, we'll be late."   
  
"But . . ." started Dean, hurrying to catch up.   
  
"We can talk about it with Harry this afternoon. Right now I just want to get to class. We're working on protection charms and I've got some questions for Professor Flitwick."   
  
"Not that you need the help in charms," Dean replied as they hurried through the corridors.   
  
"Hey, I like Charms," Seamus defended himself.   
  
"Oh, I know," Dean shot back. "I figure, that's how you manage to be so charming all the time." Seamus stuck out his tongue and Dean just grinned at him.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Once charms was over Harry slipped away from Ron with some excuse that Dean and Seamus couldn't hear, then the three of them made their way to the library. They found a small table in a corner behind some stacks, far enough away from the intimidating Madame Pince that, hopefully, she wouldn't be able to hear them. Being safely settled down, Seamus started in on his friend.   
  
"So Harry, what's up? What did Malfoy have to say? Did he really not know about the attack?"   
  
Harry looked contemplative for a few seconds, then answered. "Well, I think he's telling the truth when he says he didn't know. It's kind of complicated, so hold on a second. Let me think about how I want to say this."   
  
Seamus gave Dean a look, and the other boy nodded back. They were both aware that Harry was going to be editing his story of the previous night's encounter, and could only trust that he wouldn't hold back anything that would prove important.   
  
"Well," Harry finally started again. "When I met up with him he looked really, agitated I guess, as though he didn't want to be there. After awhile he finally told me that he and his father had a massive argument over the family's involvement with Voldemort," Seamus shuddered at this mention of the dark wizards name, "and he's been, well, not disowned, but, I don't know what you'd call it. His parents aren't happy with him at all. Anyway, he knew there was going to be an attack, he overheard his father planing it with Wormtail, which is what started the argument, but no specifics were mentioned. Nothing about time or manner, and as for person, he thinks they weren't even sure who they were going to attack. Probably Justin was just the first Muggleborn they came across."   
  
"Who's Wormtail?" Seamus asked, looking confused.   
  
"Oh, that's right. We never told you guys, did we? Wormtail is the childhood nickname of Peter Pettigrew."   
  
"But he's dead!" Seamus' exclamation caused them all to pause and look up, hopping the librarian wouldn't notice them.   
  
"No, he's not," Harry continued in a whisper, looking upset. "He was a traitor, working as a spy for Voldemort. He handed over the location of my parents' hiding place, and when my godfather, Sirius Black, found out about it he framed Sirius and went into hiding."   
  
"Whoa," Dean breathed. "Man, Harry, I'm sorry. So, in our third year . . .?"   
  
"Sirius was trying to get to Wormtail, who was hiding out in the school, not me." Harry looked grim. "Pettigrew is an animagus, turns into a rat, hence the name Wormtail."   
  
"A rat," Seamus mused. "Wait . . . what ever happened to Scabbers?"   
  
"Got it in one," Harry replied, somewhat bitterly.   
  
"Hmm," Dean thought about everything he'd heard, then broke the silence which had fallen, asking "Harry, about Malfoy's story, what were he and his father fighting about? Surely not just about attacking someone here at the school?"   
  
"No," Harry replied, scowling at some thought. "No, of course not. I doubt he'd normally have a problem with that sort of thing, but, well, apparently he was more upset at Cedric's death than he was letting on."   
  
"Being more upset about that wouldn't have been hard," Seamus said.   
  
"Agreed, but he claims a lot of that was an act." Harry didn't look like he quite believed this though.   
  
"Well, then, why?" Dean asked again.   
  
"Pureblood," Harry said with a touch of a snarl. "Cedric was a full blooded wizard, and Malfoy doesn't like that Voldemort killed him."   
  
"So he told his father that, and?" Seamus looked very curious.   
  
"And his father told him not to question their lord's ways. Standard response for a Death Eater. But not enough to make Malfoy happy, because of something he learned over the summer."   
  
"What?" Seamus asked again.   
  
"Voldemort's half Muggle, only his mother was a witch."   
  
"So pureblood-boy thinks he and his father ought to be the ones in power, not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Seamus looked kind of startled.   
  
"Well, that seems to have been the start of it. His father must have become very angry at the questioning though, because Malfoy got really evasive as to what happened next. I think something happened he doesn't want to admit." Seamus' eyes widened thinking about this, but Harry just went on. "After that Mr. Malfoy decided to let his son see what his job really entailed, and I think Draco got kind of squeamish. I'm pretty certain he was there for at least one of the attacks this summer."   
  
"What attacks?" Dean asked, confused.   
  
"That's right, you were out of touch, weren't you?" Seamus said, suddenly. "I'd forgotten, and nobody wants to talk about them now, do they?"   
  
"There were 5 major attacks this summer, 3 against Muggles in areas which have a higher percentage of wizards than Muggles, you know, towns which only just manage to pretend to be normal," Harry said and Seamus nodded. "No one was killed. There was also 1 attack in London, late at night on a full moon. A Muggle and a witch were both injured seriously, but again, no deaths."   
  
"And the last?" Dean looked worried.   
  
"The last was in Ireland," Seamus spoke up, a dark look on his face. "A family I knew when I was younger, the father was a friend of my mother's when they were here at Hogwarts, the mother's a Muggle like my father. They had a son who would have been starting here two years from now . . ." the Irish boy trailed off.   
  
"What happened?" Dean asked, laying his hand on his friends' arm, looking worried.   
  
"Dead," Seamus' voice was cold. "All three of them. My mother was called to the scene to identify them, she wouldn't tell me what had happened, and I'm glad . . ." Seamus trailed off again, and the look in his eye worried Dean, who leaned over and wrapped his arms around the suffering boy. Seamus leaned into the hug, then pushed him away. "And Malfoy was there?" Seamus asked harshly.   
  
"I don't think so," Harry sounded very serious. "From what he said, and he wasn't very forthcoming, you can imagine, but from what I can gather, I think he was at the attack in London, and one of the others. He definitely didn't like what he saw. The fact that one of the victims was a witch, and the Death Eater's methods, upset him I think. At any rate, he told his father he wasn't going to join Voldemort's followers. His exact words to me were 'I won't follow some stupid half-blooded vicious maniac on his hair-brained journey to take over the world.'"   
  
"Makes it kind of strange that he decided to talk to you then, doesn't it," Seamus said. "I mean, your mother was Muggle-born."   
  
"Yeah, I pointed that out too." Now Harry grinned. "He got the funniest look in his eyes," the memory inspired a light smile in the dark haired boy's eyes which Dean couldn't help noticing. "Said 'You're mother was a witch, wasn't she? Doesn't make a difference.' Then he quickly changed the subject."   
  
"Hmm," Dean said quietly. "And I take it you believe him?"   
  
"Well," Harry paused, then rushed on. "Yeah, yeah I think I do. There's a certain, I don't know, emotion. He was too sincere. I don't think he could have faked it. I don't believe he's that good of an actor."   
  
"What if he is?" Seamus asked, worried. "You're not going to put yourself in too much trouble, right? I mean, you'll be careful, yes?"   
  
"Of course," Harry looked annoyed. "I know what I'm doing."   
  
Dean kind of doubted this, but certainly wasn't going to say anything that would put Harry on the defensive. He wanted too much to know what was going on and how to keep his friends safe. Dean had enough reason to worry about attacks on Muggleborns. "So what did he say about the attacks?"   
  
"Nothing. He doesn't know what their plans are," Harry looked kind of disappointed, but continued. "He knows their going to be attacking students, and he thinks I'm not to be one of them." Harry scowled at this. "Apparently Voldemort wants me at some sort of disadvantage the next time we cross wands, so they're not going to be just coming in and killing me. I don't know what to make of it."   
  
"I do, and I don't like it," Dean pursed his lips. "They attacked Justin, probably because he was the first Muggle-born they came across, and to prove they could. The next one's probably going to be a closer attack."   
  
"What do you mean?" Harry looked confused.   
  
"Well, if they want to attack you without attacking you, what can they do?" Dean quickly answered his own question. "Attack the people close to you. And as your second closest Muggle-born friend you have to excuse me for not liking this plan."   
  
Harry looked alarmed. "You can't know that's their plan," he protested.   
  
"No, that's true," Seamus agreed. "But you have to admit, it makes sense."   
  
"You ought to warn the others anyway, just in case," Dean added.   
  
"Others?" Harry asked.   
  
"Hermione, of course, and the Creevey boys. What about the other houses? I know you weren't close to Justin, but do you have any friends who are Muggle or half Muggle in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?"   
  
Harry seemed startled by Dean's ideas, then thought about it seriously. "Not really," he said. "I mostly only hang out with Gryffindors, not a lot of free time to meet the other houses. We've got Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and I've worked with Justin and Ernie McMillan a couple times, but Ernie's full-blooded, and Hermione introduced me to some of the girls she studies Arithmancy with. Um, that's Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin of Ravenclaw. But they ought to be fine, they're her friends, not mine."   
  
Seamus considered that. "Not if they're all working together when Hermione gets attacked," he pointed out.   
  
Harry scowled. "I think you guys are worrying too much. We know what's going on now, and everyone's going to be really careful." As Dean started to open his mouth to protest he added, "I'll tell Hermione, and have Ginny mention something to Colin. But really, I think things are well in hand." The dark haired boy glanced at his watch, the grabbed his bag. "I've got to run, Ron'll be expecting me."   
  
"Harry, hold up," Seamus said. "There's something you ought to know." When Harry turned around, looking questioning the Irish boy continued. "This afternoon at lunch, Malfoy was watching you."   
  
"What do you mean, 'watching me'?" Harry asked.   
  
"He kept glancing over at the table, and I'm pretty certain it was you he was looking at. About once every five minutes or so, he'd look up from his dinner, shoot a look across the room, then stop and just stare for half a minute," Seamus looked thoughtful. "Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd have said he was mooning."   
  
"Yeah, right. Draco Malfoy doesn't moon," Harry gave a little snort.   
  
"Regardless of that," Dean said, "when you lot left the room to go to class he was definitely watching, and didn't get up to leave until after all of you were gone."   
  
"Oh," Harry was sort of quiet for a second, thinking. "All right, thanks for telling me, and . . ." he paused, then blinked for a couple seconds before continuing. "Tell me if he does it again, ok?"   
  
Dean nodded, and Harry turned to leave. As Harry walked away Seamus gave a little snort. "Huh, things well in hand indeed," he said quietly. "He just wants us off his back."   
  
"Agreed," Dean replied. "But what else were you expecting? He's Harry. He deals with his own problems. I'm amazed we got as much out of him as we did."   
  
"Point," and Seamus scowled as the door to the library closed with a thump, signaling Harry's departure. "Look, let's be careful, and keep our eyes open."   
  
"Of course," Dean agreed. "After Hermione, you know we're the next most obvious targets."   
  
Seamus shrugged. "Doubt it will go that far, personally. For one thing, the teacher's are going to be on their guard, they don't want a repeat of what happened last year. And for another thing . . ." he trailed off.   
  
"For another thing?" Dean prompted him.   
  
"For another thing, after Hermione gets attacked there won't be any more attacks." Seamus looked serious. "You know that if something happens to her Harry and Ron will both go ballistic."   
  
"True, but that's not what I meant."   
  
"I know," and Seamus sighed. "Look, there's nothing we can do besides be on our guard. In the meantime you want to go down to the Hospital Wing. Maybe Justin will be up by now."   
  
"That'd be nice," Dean said, and they both gathered their bags and headed out.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
When the boys reached the Hospital Wing they found Madame Pomfrey, the medical witch, sitting next to Justin's bed. The boy was not awake yet, and given the somber look on Madame Pomfrey's face they knew they couldn't expect him to return to consciousness anytime soon.   
  
"Hello Madame Pomfrey," Dean said. "How is he?"   
  
"Oh, hello boys," Madame Pomfrey looked up. "He's, he's ok. I mean," she said at their disbelieving looks, "that he's unconscious, but we're not worried. We found traces of some potion that has been forced down his throat. That's what's keeping him in this state. But Professor Snape is analyzing it. We ought to know what's in it in at most a week, and then we can brew a potion to counter it in. In the meantime he ought to be fine."   
  
"So, all the attacker did was hit him and them feed him a potion to keep him unconscious?" Seamus asked. "That seems kind of . . . strange."   
  
"Well, the potion seems to be doing a few other things too, it's attacking his respiratory system, for one thing, but nothing I can't counter until we make up the cure." Madame Pomfrey looked very sure of herself and Dean realized they'd have to believe in her skills.   
  
"Thank you Madame Pomfrey," Dean said. "Do you mind if we stay here with him for awhile?"   
  
"No, not at all, but . . . well, in a magically induced coma Justin's not going to be able to tell you boys are here."   
  
"That's ok," Seamus said. "It'll make us feel better at least."   
  
"Of course," said Madame Pomfrey. "But not more than an hour, I'm sure you boys have homework to do."   
  
"Thank you," Dean said again, then took the seat she stood up from. Seamus pulled up a second chair and the two of them sat quietly, watching their friend's chest rise and fall. Seamus fancied he could see it catch occasionally as the potion attacked the other boy. As Seamus watched Justin he felt Dean's hand reach over and clasp his. He glanced at his friend and saw Dean had closed his eyes and was whispering something. Seamus suspected Dean's Christian upbringing was coming forward and the other boy was praying for Justin's safety, and as Seamus thought about it he realized that it certainly couldn't hurt anything. The Irish boy closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the Virgin Mary, who his father had taught him to respect and love as a small child. _Please,_ he prayed. _Keep my friend's and loved ones safe. Allow no one to hurt my family. In this dark time we need your guidance and protection. Please, he added. In the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Ghost, please, keep Dean safe._ And as he finished he felt Dean squeeze his hand, and applied a light pressure in return.


	6. Malfoy Missives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: There's been another attack, but who's been hurt? And who is doing these attacks? Does Draco Malfoy hold the secret, or is he just another pawn in his father's games?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: Yep, you got it, still slash.

As the next few days passed, the castle, which had been put into something of an uproar by the attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley, slowly calmed again and returned to it's normal routine. Dean, however, was not ready to let down his guard. He had, he felt, too much to lose and was kind of tired of relying on others to protect him. But he was reasonable enough to realize there wasn't much he could do at this time. The professors were working on searching the castle, and Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape were trying to help Justin. The wonder trio (as Seamus affectionately referred to Harry, Ron, and Hermione) were even found most evenings sitting in the common room, discussing possible methods and plans that the attackers might be using. This, however, was not particularly useful, Dean thought. There had been only one attack, which didn't exactly give them a lot to work with.   
  
His personal method was work. Hermione herself couldn't complain about his dedication to his studies as he (and more often than not, Seamus with him) practiced his transfigurations, studied Charms, and reviewed Defense Against the Dark Arts hexes and curses. He had decided to take one of his previous DADA teachers' advice and practice "constant vigilance."   
  
Seamus found this dedication somewhat odd, but was willing to go along with his friend's strange behavior, only questioning him about it once, less than 3 days after the attack on Justin.   
  
"Dean," Seamus had said, as they headed down to an unused classroom that the older kids were allowed to use to practice in. "Dean, what's up?"   
  
"What do you mean?" the taller boy had asked. "We're going to go practice."   
  
"Clearly, but why? What's up with you? Ever since the attack you've been being really, I don't know, weird about work."   
  
Dean stopped and looked at Seamus, then realized the other boy was right, he never had explained his reasoning. "Well," he said at last. "It's just, I'm really worried about the attack and what it might mean."   
  
"Yeah, I know that," Seamus said. "So am I. But I don't understand how that leads to an hour every day in the library researching hexes and practicing them, and the same for transfigurations, and for charms. Hell, next you'll be going over extra potions texts."   
  
"I just want to be prepared," Dean gave a little sigh. "I don't believe that things are nearly as much under control as the professors would like us to believe, and I know Harry can't take care of everything. We both know that one of us might be attacked, or one of our other friends. I want to be ready in case it does happen."   
  
"That's great and all, but . . ." Seamus paused. "Well, I just don't see why . . ." and he trailed off again.   
  
"Why all the practices?" When Seamus nodded Dean went on. "It's really strange that someone managed to get on the grounds to attack Justin, and no one's been able to figure out how they did it, right? So probably they still have the same way of getting here, and if they've got it they're going to use it."   
  
"I don't know," Seamus argued. "There were all the attacks when the Chamber of Secrets was opened. No one was getting on the grounds then because the monster was already here."   
  
"Right," Dean agreed. "But Justin wasn't petrified, was he? He was hit on the back of the head and force feed some potion they haven't identified yet."   
  
Seamus sighed. "So this is all so you'll be ready when they attack you? What makes you think you'll be the one being attacked."   
  
"Not just me," Dean said. "I want to be ready in case they attack me, or Hermione, Colin, or little Dennis. And especially," now Dean looked angry, "Especially if they attack you."   
  
Seamus didn't have a response to that; instead he just gave Dean a little smile, then took his hand and headed on towards the room they were using to practice.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Less then 2 days later the boys discovered that being prepared to fight didn't help if you weren't there to fight in the first place.   
  
All of the Gryffindors were awoken on Friday by their Head of House, calling in the Common room for everyone to come down. The boys in the 5th year dorm got up and hurried down, worried about what Professor McGonagall might have to say to them.   
  
When they reached the Common room their roommate, Ron, hurried over to where Hermione was standing with her roommates. He gave her a hug and said something that she apparently replied tartly to, but neither boy could hear what it was.   
  
"Everyone," Professor McGonagall finally said when the room was sufficiently full. "There's something you all need to know." The Gryffindor Head of House looked very worried, and her next words told them why. "There has been another attack."   
  
Intakes of breath and mutters hurried around the room, but the Professor quickly quieted them. "Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin were working on an Astronomy project up in the tower with Terry Boot, all of Ravenclaw. Apparently Terry left the girls to get some supplies, and when he came back he found them both lying on the ground, unconscious."   
  
"How did it happen?" Harry suddenly asked from where he was standing with Neville, Dean, and Seamus.   
  
McGonagall looked very upset at this question, but answered truthfully. "We don't know Potter. Lisa was struck on the back of the head, much as Justin had been, and, as far as we can tell, Mandy put up some struggle before being knocked unconscious herself. Both girls have been feed some potions, but the professors are all working on helping all of the victims. But that is not the important part of what I have to say. Until we know who's attacking these students, or how they're getting into the school, none of you is to leave the grounds unescorted, and, well . . . all of the students who have been attacked are children of Muggles. Until we know what's going on none of you with Muggle parents should wander around the school alone. I've got to go talk with Professor Dumbledore, and the first morning classes have been canceled." The whispering following these announcements became loud at this, and as McGonagall headed out the portrait hole they turned into full discussions.   
  
Seamus turned to talk to Harry, but saw that he had made his way over to where Ron and Hermione were apparently discussing something. Hermione's roommates had disappeared, but Seamus tugged on Dean's arm and led him over to the others.   
  
"You . . . ought to . . . passages . . . map." Hermione's voice sounded kind of angry, although Seamus couldn't make out most of what she was saying.   
  
"No one besides . . . about them 'Mione," Ron could be just made out, protesting. "That can't be . . . getting in."   
  
"Ron's right," Harry agreed as Dean and Seamus shoved their way through the rest of the crowd. Hermione looked cross but Harry asked her, "Look, are you going to tell? Cause I don't think it's necessary, and you know what will happen if they know."   
  
"No," the girl sighed. "I won't tell, but I don't approve." She looked up at Dean and Seamus and smiled at them.   
  
"Hey," Seamus said. "How you doing 'Mione? I know Lisa and Mandy were friends of yours." Seamus saw Harry's scowl at the reminder of what they had discussed after his conversation with Malfoy, but the dark haired boy didn't say anything.   
  
"I'm ok," Hermione said. "I just want to know how they are."   
  
"Well, we could go visit the Hospital Wing this afternoon after Potions," Dean offered. "It'd be good to see how Justin is doing too."   
  
"That'd be nice," Hermione agreed.   
  
"I've got to say," Ron put in. "I don't think much of whoever is making these attacks."   
  
"Oh, and the rest of us do?" Seamus asked.   
  
"No, 'course not," Ron said. "It's just, first they attacked a boy working all alone, and now two girls in a secluded tower. Both attacks included blows to the back of the head. I just mean that the person who's doing it isn't much on fair play, is he."   
  
Harry looked kind of thoughtful at this, but Dean just scowled. "It's a Death Eater, Ron. Fair play isn't exactly something they're known for, is it?"   
  
"Don't get so worked up," Hermione put in. "And don't travel alone, ok guys?"   
  
"Right, you too," put in Seamus. "After all, if you get attacked who's going to make us study?" The Irish boy grinned and Hermione laughed. Then Neville came by with Colin and Ginny. Both purebloods seemed to be scolding the smaller boy, and when they stopped near the larger group Ginny turned to Dean.   
  
"Dean, tell Colin he's being a prat," Ginny demanded.   
  
"A prat about what?" Dean asked, seeming kind of curious. It wasn't often anyone saw Ginny berate her friend, and she seemed very upset about whatever it was.   
  
"Little idiot was out last night, alone." Neville put in. "He knows better, but he was out wandering around."   
  
"Why on earth would you do that?" Seamus asked. He noticed Harry and Ron standing slightly apart and whispering. Ron kept gesturing towards his sister, but Harry kept shaking his head. He didn't know what was going on, and decided he didn't want to.   
  
"I was working on some night shots," Colin said. "It's different working with less light and I haven't quite got the chemical mix right for developing . . ."   
  
Colin was interrupted by Hermione. "Colin! You know you're not allowed to be out late!"   
  
Now Ginny rounded on Hermione. "Oh don't," she said, sounding exasperated. "We didn't come here to get scolded by Prefect Hermione. I was hoping my friend Hermione and my friend Dean would be able to tell my friend Colin that he's an idiot to take such risks!"   
  
"Gin," Hermione started, then paused. Finally she turned to Colin. "Look, Colin, you know you're not supposed to be out after hours, and you know that it's dangerous these days, right?"   
  
"Yeah," Colin sighed. "I do."   
  
"Then why'd you do it?" Neville sounded as upset as Ginny looked.   
  
Colin turned to Neville, then to Ginny. "It was something I needed to do, ok. I'm sorry." He held out his hands to both of them, and Neville gladly took one, but Ginny still looked upset. "What is it?" Colin asked, quietly.   
  
"You know what it is!" the young girl finally exploded. "The last time there were attacks, when the chamber was opened, and I," she cut herself off.   
  
"Oh, Gin," Colin said. "I'm sorry. It wasn't anything like that, and I won't do it again, I promise."   
  
Ginny launched herself at the two boys who's hands were still clasped and hugged them both. Seamus thought he could hear her whispering, "Just be safe," at both boys.   
  
"Colin," Hermione spoke up as the three disengaged. "I'm not going to take any points from you this time, but don't do it again, and you heard Professor McGonagall, don't go wandering around alone. You're at just as much risk as the rest of us Muggleborns."   
  
"I doubt he's going to have to worry about going anywhere alone," came Dean's quiet mutter from behind Seamus. Seamus turned a questioning glance at his observant friend, but got no answer, and soon the three had wandered off.   
  
Hermione said she was going to go get ready for the day, and Harry headed off to hunt down one of the Weasley boys, wanting their opinion on whether they ought to go ahead with their regular Quidditch practice that night or not. Dean and Seamus were about to go back upstairs as well when Ron tapped Dean on the shoulder.   
  
"Look Dean," Ron began. "I know you've been watching Ginny a lot this year . . ."   
  
"I was sketching her, and we already had this conversation." Dean sounded kind of annoyed. "You know I'm not interested in your little sister."   
  
Seamus was startled by this, but Ron continued. "Yeah, I know, that's not what I'm asking about this time." At Dean's raised eyebrow Ron went on. "What's the deal with Ginny and Colin and Neville?"   
  
"That's a good question, but if you want a good answer you should probably ask one of them and not their portrait artist." Dean's answer was sardonic, but Ron continued.   
  
"I'm just looking out for her, you know that. And I want to know what's going on."   
  
Dean gave a little sigh. "You want to know what I know, ok, here's what I know. Colin likes Ginny, Ginny likes Colin. Neville likes Ginny, Ginny likes Neville. Colin likes Neville, Neville likes Colin. If, when, or whether any of those likes mean more than LIKE, I couldn't tell you."   
  
"I didn't know Colin and Neville were . . ."Seamus started, then trailed off, gesturing to the air between himself and Dean to finish his sentence.   
  
"To the best of my knowledge, neither of them is," Dean grinned. "But it's a weird dynamic, not unlike the wonder trio," Dean's gesture at Ron let the redhead know that by this Dean meant himself and his two best friends, and Ron scowled at the title. "That turned out ok, right?"   
  
"That's the best you've got?" Ron asked, although not accusingly.   
  
"Yep," Dean answered. "Look, talk to Ginny if you want to know anything about her life. It's, get this now, _hers_."   
  
"Or better yet," Seamus chimed in, "catch on to the fact that she's going to grow up and have her own life. You can't be her protective older brother forever, it's going to get old. She's 14, she's allowed some space." Ron scowled at his roommate, but let it go at that. The three boys finally headed back up to their dorm to get dressed.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
The day was a long one, even without the classes which had been canceled, and everyone was very glad when Potions, their last class, finally ended, especially Ron who had a detention with Snape coming up that evening and wanted to spend as little time with their Professor as possible. Hermione, Dean, and Seamus got their things together quickly to go up to visit with the students up in the Hospital Wing, but Dean noticed that Harry, who had indicated he might go with them, was being sort of slow about getting everything together.   
  
"Harry, you going to come?" Dean leaned over the stained table to ask his roommate.   
  
"Um," Harry looked up from whatever was absorbing his attention. "No, I don't think so," he said at last. "I got this back from Malfoy." He discreetly showed Dean a small slip of paper, which Dean looked over.   
  
  
_Malfoy, meet me after class. Need to talk to you about developments. -H  
  
Potter, you're a wanker. Passing notes in class is going to lose your house points. ~~Leave me alone.~~   
When and where? -D   
  
After class, in the hall. Git. -H   
  
Right. Lose the mudbloods and the weasel. -D_   
  
  
"Huh," snorted Dean. "Honestly, if I didn't know any better I'd say he's an insufferable git and couldn't stand you . . . oh, wait. That's true."   
  
Harry grinned at this. "Yeah, I know. But I've only got a few questions, I'm sure I can put up with him for a while."   
  
"What do you want to ask him? I thought you'd decided he didn't know anything else." Dean was a little confused.   
  
"Oh, um, no I don't really. That is," Harry pulled himself together. "I'm going to make sure, check over some of the things he told me last time. And, maybe, I'm going to ask him if he's willing to do more than just not work for Voldemort. Maybe he'll be willing to work for us."   
  
"I don't know Harry, I doubt . . ." Dean began, then saw Hermione and Seamus looking over at them. "Damn," he whispered. "Ok, we'll see you in the tower then," Dean said a little louder as Seamus started to come over to see what was keeping them. Dean hurried over to Seamus and Hermione, puzzling over why Malfoy had apparently changed his mind and crossed out the bit about not meeting Harry, and why Harry thought the Slytherin would have anything useful to tell him.   
  
"Ready?" Hermione said when he reached them.   
  
"Yeah, let's go." As the three of them left the Potions, Dean glanced back over his shoulder and saw Malfoy watching them leave with an inscrutable expression on his face.   
  
When they reached the Hospital Wing they found Madame Pomfrey bustling around, mixing concoctions and checking over small implements. The two girls were lying stretched out on beds next to the one Justin was still unconscious in.   
  
"Hello Madame Pomfrey," Seamus spoke up when it became apparent that the medical witch hadn't noticed their entrance yet.   
  
"What?" she looked up. "Oh, hello boys, Hermione. What can I do for you? I'm kind of busy right now."   
  
"We're sorry to disturb you," Hermione said. "We just wanted to know how their doing?" she gestured to the three unconscious students.   
  
Madame Pomfrey gave a little sigh. "Things aren't well in here I'm afraid," she answered.   
  
"Why not?" Dean asked. "The last time we came to visit Justin you thought things were going to be fine. Has Professor Snape had trouble figuring out the potion you found on Justin?"   
  
"Not really," Madame Pomfrey said. "The thing is, that doesn't seem to be the only potion involved. The potion we found traces of on Justin is the one that's keeping him unconscious, but not what's attacking him. And both girls had traces of different potions on their lips. We're going to have to analyze of all three children's blood and figure out exactly what they've been given before we can come up with something to counteract it. It's possible they've all been given different mixtures and we can't afford to give them something which will interact badly."   
  
"Oh," said Hermione. "Is there anything we can do?" she asked.   
  
"I'm afraid not," the medical witch answered. "Well," she added. "You lot can avoid being attacked yourselves. Three patients is more than we need." Madame Pomfrey smiled at them, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh dear, you lot better head out and get started on your work, shouldn't you, because I need to go check on something."   
  
"Yes, and thank you," Hermione turned and started to usher the boys out of the room. Once they were in the corridor she asked them what they were doing this evening after dinner.   
  
"Well, I need to hunt down Harry and find out what was decided about Quidditch practice, and maybe do some work before then," Seamus said.   
  
Dean nodded. "I need to find Harry too. I, uh, want to get his notes from Divination," he said, grabbing at the first thing Hermione wouldn't be able to help with. Her really wanted to find out what Malfoy had said, but, as Harry hadn't mentioned his original meeting with the Slytherin to either Ron or Hermione, Dean didn't want to bring it up.   
  
"Oh," Hermione said. "Ok, I'm going to head over to the library. I'm going to do some work on Potions, then after dinner I'm going to go back for some Herbology work. Either of you want to come by?"   
  
"I don't know," said Dean. "We might, but probably not."   
  
"Hermione," Seamus added. "You know you shouldn't be out on your own, even in the library."   
  
"I'm not going to be," Hermione sounded exasperated, as though she had already had this argument. "Neville will be with me before dinner, and Lavender's going to be working with me on Herbology afterwards. And Ron's going to come join us when he finishes his detention."   
  
Dean wasn't sure he trusted these measures but Seamus spoke up before he got the chance to protest. "That ought to be ok," he said. "After all, there was at least a week between the last attack and this one, so things ought to be quiet for a while. And I know that you can handle just about anything with a little help, right?"   
  
Hermione seemed pleased to not have to argue and nodded at Seamus. "Don't worry guys, I'll be fine."   
  
"Ok, good luck with all of that then," Dean smiled and the girl ran off to meet with Neville. "Do you really think everything will be ok?" he asked his friend when she was out of eyesight.   
  
"Hope so." This answer didn't reassure Dean and Seamus soon added, "Besides, what else would you have me do? We can't exactly lock everyone who's at risk up in their dorms until the bad guys are all gone. Especially since that includes me." The Irish boy mock-scowled. "She's got to live her life, and neither of us has the right to stop her. And Ron will be there eventually."   
  
"You're right, of course," and Dean dropped his arm around Seamus' shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Let's go find Harry. He met with Malfoy again after class and I want to see what happened."   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
When the boys reached the Common room they discovered their roommate wasn't back yet, and he hadn't returned by the time they left for dinner. They ate with Ron and Hermione, and saw Neville sitting with Ginny, Colin, and Colin's brother Dennis, but saw no sign of Harry. Hermione and Ron weren't worried though, and after they had finished Ron left for his detention and Hermione and Lavender headed for the library. This time when the boys returned to their dorm they found their roommate waiting for them. "Knew you guys would come looking for me sooner or later," Harry grinned at them.   
  
"You were right," Dean answered with a grin. "And we knew you'd want someone to talk to about the latest discovery on the Malfoy front."   
  
"So what's up? Get any info from the slimy git?" Seamus asked.   
  
"Don't call him that," Harry said, a little defensively. Seamus was startled by this, but Dean seemed to be expecting something of the kind.   
  
"So, I take it he's a convert then?" Dean asked and Seamus gave his friend a look.   
  
"Not yet," answered Harry. "But I have to admit, I kind of feel bad for him. Here, look at this." He handed over a piece of parchment for his roommates to look over.   
  
It was high quality parchment, even better than what the boys usually used to write essays on. It had been closed by a wax seal bearing an elaborate 'M' and the script the note was written in was very neat and clean. But that was all that could be said in favor of the letter.   
  
  
_Draco,_ the letter said.   
  
_As even one of your limited intelligence will have gathered by now, things go well for the followers of our Lord. You would be well advised to reconsider your rash words at our last meeting.  
  
However, as I am reasonably certain that you have never in your life done anything which was well advised, I shall assume you are not going to.   
  
If that is the case let me inform you that you will not be welcome back at the Manor for Christmas holiday. Our plans go forward and the manor is going to be full of faithful followers, and possibly another guest. If you are here and have not changed your mind you will be spending the holiday in the dungeons. Unless you developed a taste for them during your stay this summer, I suggest you stay at school.   
  
Do let me know if your decision has changed.   
  
Your mother sends her love; I refrain from pretending to do the same. We will have your Christmas presents delivered to the school.   
  
Your father,   
  
L. Malfoy _   
  
  
"Wow," breathed Seamus. "Lucius Malfoy is a right prick, isn't he." Harry nodded, but Seamus couldn't help but add. "Harry, you sure the letter's genuine? I mean, clearly Malfoy seal and all that, but are we sure it's not a ruse."   
  
"I'm pretty sure, yeah," Harry added. "Draco was . . . upset, to say the least. Plus, we talked about some other things, and I think I'm starting to trust him."   
  
"But if it's a trick, that would be the idea, wouldn't it?" Dean asked.   
  
Harry scowled. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But I . . . I think I've got to go with my feelings on this one."   
  
"And what feelings exactly would those be, oh intrepid captain?" Seamus joked, but Dean gave him a light thump on the arm and Harry scowled at him.   
  
"Not funny," Harry growled, then continued discussing his meeting with Malfoy. "The letter pretty much says that Draco's father's involved in the attacks here at school, and that this winter there's going to be something happening at Malfoy Manor. I suggested trying to get down there and spy but, well, was told that I was something of an idiot." Harry looked a little abashed at this. "So, we've got a couple other options in front of us. Draco's going to see if he can send a letter to his mother. He doesn't really think she'll go so far as to help but you never know. And I'm going to tell Professor Dumbledore what we've found out."   
  
"Wow, Malfoy actually agreed to all of this?" Dean sounded impressed.   
  
"Well, not as such, no. He was going to write his mother anyway, and since he doesn't think she'll help he didn't seem to mind adding a small, carefully worded paragraph to the letter. And he doesn't know I'm going to talk to Dumbledore." Harry grinned at his friends. "Not like I'm going to tell him all my plans, really guys," he chided. "Have some faith. Oh," Harry looked up as they heard the portrait hole open. "Ron's here, that was quick. Be right back." Harry hurried over to his best friend, and while they waited for them to get back Seamus dropped into a seat.   
  
"Hey Dean," he asked. "Since when does Harry refer to Malfoy by his first name?"   
  
Dean only got as far as shrugging when Harry and Ron came back. "Hey Ron," he said. "Detention over already?"   
  
"Yeah, Snape wasn't that bad for once," the red head answered. "He's so busy working on the blood samples from Justin, Mandy, and Lisa, he didn't want me in his way. I just had to clean all the counters in the classroom and then he kicked me out. Said I made too much noise for him to concentrate, but he was so frazzled he didn't even take points."   
  
"So, where's Hermione?" Seamus asked.   
  
"Hmm? Oh, right. Well, she's probably still in the library. I'm going to go meet her, but I wanted to come back here and change." He held up his arms, showing them his soaked sleeves. "Bit of a mess, aren't they?"   
  
"Yeah," Seamus agreed, but was cut off by the portrait hole slamming open. Neville, Ginny, Colin and Dennis came pounding into the room. All four of them had clearly been running for a while and were quite out of breath.   
  
"There's been . . . another . . . attack!" Neville managed to get out. "Hermione . . ." but he got no farther. Harry and Ron gave each other a pair of horrified looks and bolted out the gaping portrait hole.   
  
"Wait!" Ginny called out from the chair she'd dropped into, but it was too late, they were gone. "Hermione's not in the Hospital wing," she panted to Seamus and Dean. "She's gone missing!"


	7. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Hermione's been taken, is Harry right to think that Lucius Malfoy has her? And was the rat involved? The boys make out their plans to rescue their friend, even if it does mean taking on an enclave of fully trained wizards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author notes: Yep, you got it, still slash.

After Ginny's alarming announcement Seamus and Dean had both hurried out after their roommates. They hoped to catch up with the other boys before they started causing a scene, or rushed out to try something stupid, like a rescue mission with no supplies and no information.   
  
When they reached the Hospital Wing, however, they discovered they needn't have worried. Slowing down outside the door they heard sounds of muffled crying, but not much else. Seamus pushed the door open and saw Lavender Brown, Hermione's roommate and study partner, sitting up in one of the beds, quietly weeping, and Harry and Ron standing next to her, looking serious.   
  
"Please, Lavender," Harry was saying as they entered the room. "You've got to tell us what happened."   
  
"I've . . . I've already told . . ." the girl sniffed out through her tears.   
  
"Lavender," Ron started again, clearly in a rush, but Seamus interrupted him by crossing the room and settling down on the girl's bed. He wrapped his arms around Lavender and pulled her into a hug. At this show of compassion she started to whimper a little more, and Seamus could feel her shaking in his arms, but he didn't pressure her.   
  
"Seamus," Harry said. "We need to know."   
  
"Not now, Harry," Dean put in. "Give her a little bit. Let her calm down." The tall boy came across the room to stand by his roommates and lightly rested his hand against Lavender's back.   
  
Harry and Ron clearly didn't like this, but seemed to realize that they weren't going to be able to get any information from Lavender until she calmed down anyway, so they both settled into chairs to wait. Luckily they didn't have to wait long.   
  
Lavender seemed to regain control of herself and soon sat up, pushing Seamus away. She rubbed at her red eyes and gave one last sniff, then looked over at the other three. "Well," she said. "What do you lot want? I've already told all of the professors, they've gone to search the castle for Hermione, so it's not like you can do anything."   
  
"We just want to know what happened," Harry said, trying to look calm and relaxed, but failing miserably.   
  
"Of course you do," Lavender sounded a little sarcastic now. "You're precious Hermione's been taken so . . ." but she cut herself off. She scowled down at the sheets that had been laid across her legs, then looked up when Dean started to rub her back. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't mean it. It's just . . . I mean . . . I . . ."   
  
"It's ok," Seamus said. "You're ok." He smiled to try and reassure the shaken girl but she just sighed.   
  
"I know I'm ok. I'm ok, and they're not," she gestured to the other occupied beds in the ward. "I'm ok and Hermione's missing, and you guys want to help. And I want to help you." Harry and Ron both leaned forward in their chairs and Dean settled down onto the other side of the bed as Lavender started to talk.   
  
"We were working in the library, you know that, right? Of course you do," she answered herself. "You were supposed to come meet us," and she looked at Ron, who blushed and scowled. "Anyway, we were working on Herbology, trying to finish they essay Professor Sprout assigned us last week. When we got to the library Hermione took me to a table in the back, behind the stacks. It was really close to the Herbology books, and Potions, which is why she wanted to work there and it was quite because we were separated from the rest of library by the shelves. I was kind of nervous about this, what with the attacks and all, but Hermione just told me not to worry. So I tried not to. But, I kept hearing little scratching noises, or people walking past the stacks, and I'd get upset again."   
  
Lavender paused, and seemed to be thinking, chewing on her lip for a little bit, then continued. "Every time I heard something I would look up and Hermione would see me, and tell me not to worry, or tease me about being so jumpy. But one time I heard a little scratching sound, and when I looked up I saw something. It was just a rat, running along the floor, but it startled me so much I screamed. " Harry and Ron exchanged glances at this piece of news, clearly thinking something of it, even though from Lavender's next words it became apparent that she didn't attach any importance to the event. "When Hermione asked what had happened I laughed a little bit, and said 'Oh, I just saw a rat, it startled me,' and she got this really strange look on her face. She said something, I'm not sure what, something like 'A rat? It couldn't be . . .' then got up to check on what I'd seen. I tried to relax and get some work done, telling myself not to be so nervous all the time, when all of a sudden there was a great pain on the back of my head, and the next thing I knew, I was here." She seemed to realize that this story, though it was all that had happened to her, wasn't going to be enough to satisfy the boys and so she continued.   
  
"When I woke up Madame Pomfrey was here. She told me not to worry, that I was going to be ok, and that because I'd screamed out Madame Pince had gotten to me before whoever attacked me could give me any of the potions they gave to Justin, Mandy, and Lisa. I asked her how Hermione was and she got confused. I asked again if Hermione was ok, if Madame Pince had gotten to us before she could be dosed either and all of a sudden her eyes widened. 'Do you mean Hermione was working with you in the library?' she asked, and when I said yes she looked really alarmed. 'Oh no,' she said. 'I've got to tell Professor Dumbledore.' She started to leave and begged her to tell me what had happened to Hermione. She just looked at me as said 'My dear girl, I don't know. We didn't find Hermione with you.' Of course, I got really upset, started to cry. I think she would have tried to make me drink some sort of potion and go back to sleep, but she had to hurry off and talk to the Headmaster. That's when you all got here." At the end of her story Lavender dropped back against the pillows which were piled at the head of her bed. She looked like she wasn't done crying for the night, but her pride seemed to keep her from continuing while her classmates were watching.   
  
"Well," said Dean, breaking the silence that had filled the room. "I don't think you need to worry to much Lav. Things will work out all right." Lavender looked at him as though he were mad, and the black boy shut up, staring at his two roommates on the other side of the room, who had taken to whispering between themselves.   
  
"Um," Harry finally said, looking up and noticing that he and Ron were being watched. "I'm glad you're ok Lavender, and um . . . we need to go." He and Ron both stood up quickly and started for the door, but Seamus stopped them, reaching out his hand and grabbing Harry's sleeve.   
  
"You ought to get some more sleep Lavender," he said. "But Harry's right, we should to leave before Madame Pomfrey gets back and throws us out." He shot her a reassuring smile, which he noticed didn't seem to get him anywhere, but stood up anyway, still holding onto Harry's sleeve. "I hope the night goes alright for you, I'm sure you'll be fine. We'll see you when they let you come back to the tower, ok?"   
  
"Yeah, right," Lavender snorted. "I don't mind you guys running out, hell, if you come back with Hermione I'll be glad. But don't pretend I'm an idiot" Ron tried to look innocent, as though he had no idea what she was talking about, but pretty much failed. "Don't bother," she told him, sounding annoyed. "Look, saving the day is what you guys always do, so go on, go get her back." She waved her hands at them, as though shoeing them out of the room then settled herself further into her pillows.   
  
Dean grinned at his roommates stunned faces, and patted the girl on her hand as he stood up to leave. "Sleep well," he said. Then joined the other boys as they left.   
  
As they made there was down the hall they ran into the formidable Madame Pomfrey, coming back to look after her patient. She stared at them, then gasped out, "Boys, what on earth are you doing here? It's not safe!"   
  
"Don't worry," Seamus said. "We're just going back to the tower now." But as he said it he let go of Harry's sleeve, gesturing in the direction of the Gryffindor dorm. Harry, who had seemed lost in thought, at this release suddenly bolted down the corridor, Ron close on his heels. "We'll be ok," Seamus said, quickly. Then, before the medical witch could say anything he and Dean shot after their two friends.   
  
Harry and Ron were both fast runners, but Dean's legs were just as long as Ron's, and Seamus had the energy to run marathons, let alone dashes through the school, and they soon caught up the other boys' lead.   
  
Slipping past them as they rounded a corner, Seamus planted himself firmly in Harry's path and Harry, rather than run the other boy over, pulled up in front of him. Harry opened his mouth, clearly about to protest but Seamus cut him off. "Don't be stupid Harry," he said, angry. "You guys can't just run off and look for her. You've got no idea who's behind the attacks, no idea where they've taken her, or what sort of defenses there will be. This is suicide."   
  
"Oh come on," Harry said. "We know exactly who's behind the attacks, and where they've taken her. You saw that letter from Malfoy's father." Ron looked confused, clearly not understanding the reference but Harry went on. "And now I even know how they've been doing it. Damn Wormtail!"   
  
"Whoa," said Dean. "Where did that come from?"   
  
"You heard Lavender," now it was Ron's turn. "She saw a rat running around in the library, and when Hermione went to look for it she got hit on the back of the head by someone. How many rats have you ever seen in the castle? There's no way there would have been a wild rat in the library, Madame Pince would never allow it."   
  
"You don't know that's what it was," Seamus argued. "It could have been some student's pet."   
  
"Yeah," snarled Ron. "Mine."   
  
"Ron's right, it has to have been Pettigrew," Harry put in. "He's probably been using his animagus form and the secret passages my father and Sirius found when they were all going to school here. Hermione was right," and now Harry sounded defeated. "I should have told Professor Dumbledore about all the passages on the map."   
  
"I wouldn't worry to much about that," Ron said. "Right now I just want to go get Hermione back."   
  
"Look," Dean said. "I agree that it might be Pettigrew behind the attacks, and maybe that's what Lucius Malfoy was writing about when he said there might be an extra guest at the manor over Winter break, but I think it's going out on a limb to assume. . ."   
  
"I don't," came a voice from behind the boys. The four of them turned to see Draco Malfoy, leaning against the door of one of the classrooms they had ran past in their race. "Really, it sounds just like something my father would come up with."   
  
"Malfoy!" snarled Ron, and the red head started to leap for the blond, seemingly quite happy to try and kill the son of the man who he thought had taken his girlfriend, but Harry stopped him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and pulling him off balance.   
  
"Don't Ron, it's ok," Harry said. Ron looked at Harry as though he were insane, but Dean moved up to stand next to his other arm, ready to help restrain their volatile roommate.   
  
"I take it, Malfoy," Seamus said, keeping his tone light, but with a hint of menace. "That you still don't know what your father is up to?"   
  
"No," the blond replied. "But I think Harry's logic is sound. It certainly seems like the sort of plan my damned father would come up with; sneak an assailant onto the grounds, attack random helpless mudbloods," Seamus scowled at this and Ron's hands clenched convulsively. "Finally nab Potter's best friend and spirit her off to the Manor, to hold and possibly torture until he comes to save her and get caught in the defenses."   
  
"What are you going to do?" Dean asked Harry, watching him over Ron's shoulders. "You need to tell Dumbledore your suspicions about Pettigrew, and Malfoy . . . Malfoy senior that is. Once you let the professors know they can rescue Hermione and . . ." but Dean knew it would be in vain, and Harry cut him off precisely on cue.   
  
"No," he said, in a quite and dangerous tone. "I'm going to go rescue her. It's my fault she ended up in this mess. I'm the one they want to get, not her, and if someone else shows up, well, who knows what they'll do."   
  
"You're insane Potter," Draco spoke up. "You're going to attack an enclave of fully trained wizards, all of whom hate you on general principal? You'll never make it."   
  
Seamus scowled at the Slytherin. "We'll manage," he said in an angry tone.   
  
"We?" Harry asked, and Dean echoed him.   
  
"Of course," said Seamus. "We're going with you. You're going to need the help."   
  
Dean gave a little sigh, then nodded. "Exactly," he said, sounding resigned. "Assuming you're right, and you probably are," he conceded, "then Lucius Malfoy is setting a trap and you'll need all the back up you can get." Ron nodded at this, relaxing a little bit now that the focus was off of Malfoy. "But," Dean added. "You have to tell Dumbledore. At least about the rat. The other students may still be in danger and the professors need to know what's happening."   
  
"I hate to say it," Ron said. "You know I don't like turning to the teachers, but Dean's right. Wormtail may come back here after he takes Hermione to Malfoy, and Dumbledore needs to know what's going on. But look," he added after a pause. "You could just send a note by owl. Then we could head out tonight, not have to wait till you can see him."   
  
"Yeah," Harry finally sighed. "All right. I'll send him an owl."   
  
"Well, write it fast," Draco piped up. "We'll need to move quickly. It's a full day journey to the Manor and we don't know what they're planing to do when she gets there. Plus they can apparate and cover ground faster than we can."   
  
"And what makes you think you're coming?" Ron asked dangerously.   
  
"You need me," was Malfoy's simple answer.   
  
"Yeah right," Seams said, still not sure if he trusted the other boy. "We need you like we need a knife in the back."   
  
"You'll never get through the Manor's defenses without me," Draco argued, shrugging off the insult. "I grew up there, I know the grounds like the back of my hand. Go on your own and you won't stand a chance."   
  
"Sure, you know the grounds," Ron said. "And you'll know just how to lead us into a trap."   
  
"Malfoy's right," Dean put in, surprising Ron. "We're going to need help." Seamus looked ready to protest but Dean cut him off. "Look, do any of you even know where the Malfoy home is?" he asked, and the other's fell silent.   
  
"Ok," Harry said finally. "You're right, we will need your help, and if you're offering then I'm not going to turn you down." The two boys gazed at each other across the hall, measuring each other up and trying to see where they stood with this uneasy truce.   
  
Ron, however, wasn't ready to put aside old grudges so easily. "Harry," he argued. "You can't mean it. After all he's done, there's no way he's actually going to help us. I can't agree with this." He had turned to face his friend, ignoring the boy he was discussing, which was just as well because as soon as he started talking Draco started making faces at him.   
  
"Ron," Harry said. "You don't have a choice in the matter. Draco's coming." Harry's tone held a note of finality, and Ron shut up. Draco stopped making faces and considered his ex-nemesis.   
  
When Harry turned to look at him he breathed in a second, then let out a sigh. "Ok, get your brooms and meet me down in the Entrance Hall. We need to head out tonight.   
  
"And be quick," Harry added. "If you're not there in an hour we're leaving without you." Seamus couldn't figure out who Harry was addressing this comment to, seeing as the four of them all shared a dorm, and Draco was the one member of the party Harry really couldn't do without. However the other's just nodded and they split up.   
  
Hurrying back to the dorm Seamus noticed he hadn't seen any of the professors or even Filch wandering around. He suspected they were all out looking for Hermione and he felt a pang that they were going to such effort when 5 of their students knew exactly where she had been taken and weren't going to tell them. He brushed it off, much as they four of them brushed off the inquiring looks they got when they reached the dorm. They hurried up to their room and gathered their things. Making a quick wand check Seamus grabbed up the Nimbus98 he had and saw Harry getting his invisibility cloak out of the chest. Harry snatched up his Firebolt and checked to see that Ron's Cleansweep, which he had inherited from one of the twins, was ok. Then Harry started for the door, only to be pulled up short when Neville rushed into the room.   
  
"Ok guys," the other boy said in an aggrieved tone after taking in their activity. "What's going on? What are you up to?"   
  
"We're going to go rescue Hermione," Ron said flatly, his tone brooking no argument.   
  
"The four of you?" Neville seemed incredulous, although Seamus thought he detected a hint of jealousy that the other boy wasn't being included.   
  
"Yes," said Dean, seeming also to have picked up on the note in Neville's tone. "And we need you to stay here. Make sure the others, Colin and Dennis and them are ok. And when Lavender gets back, probably tomorrow, don't let her work too hard."   
  
"And," Ron added, then paused and swallowed a little. "Take care of Ginny, ok?" Seamus grinned behind his hand at this, knowing Ron didn't like to have to admit he couldn't always be there for his little sister.   
  
Neville sighed a little. "Right," he said, quietly. "I know I'm more use here, but . . . oh," he interrupted himself looking at the boy's broomsticks. "Dean! You don't have a broomstick."   
  
Seamus could have smacked himself for forgetting. Of course Dean's parents would never have bought him a broomstick, but Dean just nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'm going to take one of the schools."   
  
"That'll never do keep up with Harry's Firebolt, no matter how much you try. Here," and the other boy hurried over to his own bed, pulling the broomstick he'd been given as a birthday present out and handing it over. "It's not a Firebolt, but the FlyingEagle is a good broom."   
  
"Thanks Nev," Dean answered.   
  
"Take care guys, be careful." Neville gave them a quick look then glanced back down toward the Common Room. "You'll never get out of here . . ." he started, then cut himself off. "Right," he said. "I'm going to go make a diversion. Can you guys come through in 10 minutes?"   
  
Ron, looking surprised, nodded, and Neville took off back the way he'd come.   
  
"Well," the redhead said, but didn't seem to have anything to add.   
  
Seamus just grinned at Dean, knowing that Neville and the two of them had startled their more active roommates with their willingness to be included in the odd world saving attempt.   
  
"Right then," said Harry suddenly, throwing down the quill no one had noticed him take up and rolling a piece of parchment up. "When the 10 minutes are up I'm going to the owlery to send this. You guys make your way down to the kitchen. Malfoy said it's a two-day trip, so we're going to need some food." Dean nodded then went to the door that was standing open, listening for the promised distraction.   
  
Soon they all heard the distinctive sound of a dungbomb exploding and the ensuing chaos as everyone fled the Common Room. "Ready?" Dean asked, somewhat rhetorically, and Harry just nodded, then led the way down the stairs.


	8. Storming the Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: To get Hermione back the boys will do anything, even attack Malfoy Manor. But can they make it through all the traps? Thank goodness Draco's on their side, right? Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes: First, many thanks to Cassandra Claire for letting me use her Man Eating Topiary and the exploding bridge from her Draco Series. She's wonderful.  
> Also, this remains slash, although the boys are too busy to have time to do anything that will annoy people, well, most people

The trip had been a long one, as Draco had warned it would be. The boys had left Hogwarts around 10 p.m. the night before, and flown all-night and past dawn. Breakfast was eaten on their brooms. Noon found them a ways north of London and Draco called a halt. They settled themselves under a tree in a field somewhere, none of them exactly sure where, and had lunch, then, at Seamus' insistence, and with Draco's reassurance that they were only a few hours away they had all napped to recover their strength. Harry was the first one up, and Ron soon after him. By the time Dean woke Seamus all of the other's were getting their things ready to head out for the last leg of their trip. Draco was talking quietly with Harry, presumably about where they were going, and Ron was scowling at the blond boy.   
  
The five of them mounted up again and set off, now bearing farther west. It had been about 3 when they set off the second time and by the time the sun started to sink Malfoy was already angling his broom down toward the ground. They broke through the clouds they had been using to guard them from Muggle sightings and Dean heard Malfoy say 'There it is.' He looked down and saw, rising above a small town like many they had flown over today, an expanse of green hills and a collection of trees which he knew, given their perspective, was probably a reasonably sized forest. Around all of this there was an even and regular line, presumably a wall, and at the end of a road leading away from this wall was a large Manor house, seated on a hill looking down on the town.   
  
Draco pulled his broom up and hovered while the other's drifted in closer to hear what he had to say.   
  
"There you go Potter, Malfoy Manor. What do you think?"   
  
"I think I want to know how we get in," Harry's voice was raised to be heard across the distance between the brooms.   
  
"We're going to have to wait at least until the sun's farther down," Malfoy said. "Right now, with us flying into the sun we're pretty easy to spot. But come on," he gave a small gesture to his right, in the direction of the forest. "The easiest way over the wall is there. We can get into position now and head over when dusk hits."   
  
Harry nodded and motioned for Malfoy to continue to lead the way. Seamus and Dean followed close behind, with Ron behind them, shaking his head as though he still didn't trust the Slytherin.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
The five of them settled to the ground a few feet from the wall, under a large oak. Seamus could see a few other trees on the other side of the wall, and knew from the view he'd gotten coming in that they were fairly close to the forest.   
  
Once they were down they had a quick dinner of the leftovers from lunch, then began prowling around. Malfoy warned them not to touch the wall, then left them to wait while he climbed the tree. Watching him go up Seamus saw him come level with the wall and scrutinize it, being careful not to touch it, then the blond pulled himself up onto the branch above him and looked over the wall, scanning the ground for something.   
  
Whatever he saw seemed to be what he was looking for, because he soon made his way back down to where the others were waiting.   
  
"Ok," he said, after dropping the last 4 feet to the ground. "I'd say it's about dark enough. We can probably head over. Leave your brooms here and follow me." He had already propped his Nimbus2001 against the tree, facing so no one passing by would notice it and Seamus laid his broom down on the ground, trying to make sure the tree continued to block the view.   
  
He looked up and saw Malfoy scrambling back up into the tree, Harry and Dean close behind him. Seamus hurried over, settled the straps of his bag on his back, and reached out for the grips he'd seen Malfoy using before, hoisting himself up into the branches and Ron followed him.   
  
Eventually the five of them came to rest on the branch level with the top of the wall. Malfoy started patting his pockets, then suddenly scowled. "Damn," he whispered. "My knife must have fallen out during the flight." He turned to face them. "Have any of you got a knife, or something sharp I can use."   
  
"Here," said Harry, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his penknife. "Use this, but I want it back."   
  
"Thanks," Malfoy took the knife, then turned to face the wall. "Let's see," he muttered, then, gripping the branch above them for balance he edged out away from the trunk of the tree. About two body widths away from the others he stopped, steadied himself, and then slid the penknife against his finger, hissing a little at the pain.   
  
"What?" Dean started, but the blond paid him no mind, carefully laying the now bleeding finger against the top of the wall, then turning back and walking along the branch to where they stood. He considered the wound on his finger, then seemed to decide it wasn't enough because he sliced at it again, opening the cut further. Holding tightly onto the branch above them he leaned out as far as he could past Harry and again laid the wounded finger on the wall. Now Seamus could see that the blood from Draco's finger stained the wall next to a number of other similar stains.   
  
Draco started to pull himself back to a standing position, but suddenly swayed, losing his balance. Harry's seeker reflexes shot his hand out and grabbed the other boy's arm, pulling him securely back onto the branch.   
  
"Thanks," Draco muttered, giving Harry a considering look, then turned back to the wall. " _Securitas familias, nul securitas!_ " Draco called out, and the wall seemed to glow faintly between the two bloodstains he had made. "Ok," he said, glancing over his shoulder at them. "Go directly down from here, and don't touch the wall outside the edge of the spell, you'll set off alarms." He then reached out, placed both hands on the wall and hoisted himself up and over, dropping straight down the other side.   
  
Harry quickly followed suit, and Ron, after scowling at the bloodstains on the wall also hoisted himself over. Dean glanced back at Seamus then shrugged and placed both hands on the wall. "See you on the flip side," he joked, then swung out and over.   
  
"Right," Seamus snorted, and reached out to the wall. Realizing he was the shortest of them he scowled at the distance between the tree and the wall. He could get his arms securely placed, but didn't have the leverage to hoist himself. Breathing in deeply, he gave a small curse then leaped out from the branch, trusting his arms to hold, which they did. Lifting the rest of the way he swung his knees up onto the top of the wall, then dropped over the edge, falling the 11 feet to the ground.   
  
Dean was there to steady him as he stumbled, for which he was grateful. And the two of them looked up to where Draco seemed to be discussing something with Harry.  
  
" . . .back when the wall was built, far as I know. Generations of Malfoy's have learned that spell, in someway or another," he paused and glanced back, to where Seamus and Dean were standing, then to where Ron was peering toward the Manor up on the hill. "Ah, you're here then are you Finnigan? All right, let's go. Be careful where you step, and don't touch anything if you can avoid it." Malfoy set off, leading them off to the left, around the forest, although not directly up to the manor. "I found my father's old journal which described the _Familius_ spell, and he apparently learned it from his father after a night of, um . . . entertainment, down in the village."   
  
"Oi, ferret boy," Ron called out. "Why are we going this way?"   
  
Malfoy flinched at the name, then rounded on the red head. "You think you can find your way through all the traps and wards, be my guest. Head out on your own. Gods know I won't miss you."   
  
"Look," Dean said. "I'm sure you do know the way, but I wouldn't mind knowing the reasoning myself. Why don't we just go directly to the Manor?"   
  
"We'd be seen," Malfoy answered shortly.   
  
"Well, if we're worried about getting cover, why aren't we going through the woods?" Harry asked.   
  
Malfoy gave a snort. "With all the creatures, nasty plants, and little surprises in there, we'd never make it. Hell, I'd have trouble getting through with a fast horse and an enchanted crossbow. There's no way you lot would make it, unarmed and on foot. Look," he said with a sigh. "Just trust me. There really is a method to my . . ."   
  
"Madness?" Seamus put in with a grin.   
  
"Plans," Malfoy finished, trying to scowl at the Irish boy, although Seamus' smile made it hard for anyone to really get mad at him. "Come on," he sighed, and started off again.   
  
Unfortunately the discussion had distracted Harry from where they were, and he stepped forward without checking the ground first. His foot bumped a rock and all of a sudden he pitched forward, as though he'd been tripped.   
  
Malfoy, hearing his gasp, spun and reached out his hand, somehow managing to keep the black haired boy from hitting the ground and pulling him back upright. This turned out to be a very good thing as Seamus noticed 2 darts shooting past at an angle which would have put them right in Harry's side if he'd fallen all the way.   
  
Malfoy gave a little sigh. "I told you to watch where you stepped," he said.   
  
"What was that?" Dean asked, sounding worried.   
  
"A Footloose spell on the rock to make you fall, and a pair of poisoned darts, probably barbed, to keep you down."   
  
"Poisoned darts? You're father's certainly got it in for anyone wandering around on the grounds, doesn't he?" Harry asked. "What if you or one of your friends tripped one of these traps?"   
  
"Well, then it would pretty much serve us right for having been out here, according to the grand Malfoy tradition." Draco snorted. "Did you know there's a torture museum in southern Germany?"   
  
The one liner took Seamus by surprise, but Ron shot back "One of your father's favorite vacations spots?"   
  
"You think you're joking Weasley," Draco answered. "He gets some of his best ideas down there and has a collection in the dungeons to rival the displays. Oh, come on." And the blond headed out again, although Seamus noticed that Malfoy hadn't let go of Harry's arm where he'd grabbed him until then.   
  
  
  
***   
  
  
  
Soon the boys had crossed away from the forest at an angle, moving closer and closer to the front of the manor. Malfoy signaled a halt and gestured Harry toward him.   
  
"We need to make a decision," he said. "We're getting too close to the Manor and the defenses get a little tougher here. We can either go straight up the drive," the blond gestured toward his left where they could just make out the even stretch of ground which was the Malfoy driveway, "or we can cut across the grounds to the back."   
  
"Which way is better?" Seamus asked.   
  
"Well," Malfoy said deliberately, "the thing about coming up the drive is, a) they'll see us, and b) we'll set off alarms. The thing about crossing the grounds is a) there will be traps, and b) we'll probably set off alarms."   
  
"You Malfoy's are real big on paranoia, aren't you?" Ron asked.   
  
"We're not real big on uninvited guests," Malfoy shot back. "You have to admit, it cuts down on the traveling salespeople."   
  
"And by cut down you mean cut off at the knees, right?" Seamus joked but Ron continued angrily.   
  
"Cuts down, mows down, it's all the same to a Malfoy." Ron snarled.   
  
Harry raised his hand in front of Ron, stopping the developing fight. "We go across the grounds," he said. "We're working in secrecy guys, so keep quiet and don't start bickering. You've got to work TOGETHER!" Harry scowled at his friend, then nodded to Draco to have him start on again. The blond nodded back and set off away from the road but towards the building.   
  
"Come on, this way," he said quietly, and the others followed him.   
  
"Hey Malfoy," Seamus said, stepping quickly and catching up with the other boy. "Can you tell me something?"   
  
"Maybe," came Malfoy's short response. He scowled for a second, then glanced back at the Irish boy who was pouting at him. "Oh, all right," he sighed. "What do you want to know?"   
  
"Well," Seamus began, grinning, "I was just wondering if you could give us a tour of the sights while we walked? Seems a shame to travel all this way and break onto one of the oldest wizarding homes in England and not even learn anything about it."   
  
Malfoy snorted at this; even he seemed to find it hard to ignore Seamus' charm and wit. "Right Finnigan," he said. "So you want a guided tour of my childhood home, which we're breaking into in order to rescue your kidnapped friend. Tell me, are you ever serious about anything?"   
  
"'Course," Seamus sounded offended. "I'm very serious about getting 'Mione back. But in the mean time there's not much we can do besides be careful and the distraction . . ."   
  
"Could be fatal," Draco answered, cutting him off.   
  
"Oh," said Seamus, looking thoughtful. "Right." He fell silent, slowly dropping back from where Malfoy was leading.   
  
Before he got very far though, Malfoy gave a small sigh. "Fine," he muttered to himself, then raised his voice a little so they could all hear him. "Well, on your left you can see we are passing my mother's rose garden, and behind that is the poisonous flower collection, the largest collection in England and containing many specimens not normally found in Europe. On the right we have the man-eating topiary . . . "   
  
Dean, looking off incredulously toward where Draco was gesturing interrupted him at this point. "There's a _pikachu_ in the man-eating topiary!" he gasped out. "Why is there a Muggle cartoon character that eats people in your garden?"   
  
Draco glanced back at him and grinned. "My father," he answered dryly, "has a sick sense of humor."   
  
"Clearly," came Dean's quiet answer.   
  
"Is that enough of a tour for you Finnigan?" Malfoy asked.   
  
"Um, yeah," Seamus said, a touch of chagrin in his tone.   
  
"Good, cause we've reached the brook," Malfoy replied, coming to a stop.   
  
Seamus gave a look forward and gasped, his sense of humor overriding his chagrin. "It's a moat!" he exclaimed.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous," came Malfoy's voice. "It is not."   
  
"It is, it is!" Seamus seemed to be almost dancing in place. "It's a moat! I've always wanted to see a moat."   
  
"It's a brook." Malfoy said, slowly enunciating each word.   
  
"Does it go all the way around the building?" Seamus asked.   
  
"Well, yes," Malfoy answered somewhat sullenly.   
  
"Can you swim, well, wade across it?" Seamus snickered, looking down at the curving, bubbling moat.   
  
"Not unless you want to be eaten by the ravenous goldfish."   
  
"Why the hell do you have ravenous _goldfish_ in your moat?" Ron's voice was incredulous.   
  
"It," Malfoy replied, "is a brook."   
  
"And that bridge over there," Seamus gestured to where a bridge was visible in the light of the moon. "It has a tendency to not be there, doesn't it?"   
  
"Only because it blows up under you," Malfoy was clearly annoyed.   
  
"It's a moat!" Seamus crowed.   
  
"How do we cross?" Dean asked, trying to distract them.   
  
"We don't," Malfoy answered. "The secret entrance is on this side of the brook."  
  
"Moat!"   
  
"Quiet you," Dean said then, smacking his friend affectionately upside the head. "Lead on," he gestured to Malfoy. The blond just looked at him for a second, then shook his head at the Irish boy's antics and turned away from the bridge they could see, leading them further around the back of the house.   
  
After a few seconds Harry spoke up. "So, about these ravenous goldfish?" he asked.   
  
Draco gave a sigh. "When the Manor was originally built there was a moat on the other side of the wall. Several generations ago they had it filled in to make life easier, especially since it wasn't all that useful anymore. When I was little my father decided he wanted one, mostly for fun," he paused and grimaced. "My mother didn't agree. She thought it would be obnoxious and they fought about it. Finally they compromised on having the brook go all the way around the building. Yes Finnigan," he said before the Irish boy could interrupt. "It is supposed to be a moat. Get over it. Anyway, my father had originally wanted a moat monster, because you can't have a moat without a moat monster. When my mother made him settle for a brook he refused to give up the monster idea. But it's not like a full sized monster would fit in that little brook. So," he gave a shrug, "goldfish."   
  
"I see," Harry's voice held the hint of a grin which he had managed to keep off of his face.   
  
"Look, there's the entrance." Malfoy pointed ahead. "We can get into the manor through the gazebo."   
  
Following the young aristocrat Dean soon perceived the building he had referred to. A small wooden gazebo painted white which shone in the moonlight. It was covered in carvings of small fruit with a statue Dean couldn't make out carved above the roof. They reached the little building and Draco had them all climb into it, gesturing that they should stand near the circular walls.   
  
"Now, where was it . . ." Draco crossed to the far side of the gazebo and considered the carvings. "Oh, right, the horn of plenty." Draco stepped back two paces and pulled out his wand. Pointing to the carving he had selected he muttered " _Zweimal Waffenschlag_." Two short light bursts that seemed like arrows shot out of the end of his wand and into the carving. At first nothing seemed to happen but suddenly the center of the floor swung open, revealing a flight of stairs dropping into the darkness.   
  
Harry walked over and peered down. "Awfully dark, isn't it?"   
  
"Yeah, we need to use the _Lumos_ spell down there, but don't light your wands until you're underground. We don't want the light to be seen." Draco made a motion to get them to move down the stairs but Harry looked back at him for a second.   
  
"After you Malfoy," Harry sounded suspicious and his tone had grown a little cold, but Draco just brushed it off.   
  
"Nope," he said. "After you. I need to go down last and close the door behind us. To the best of my knowledge my father doesn't know about this tunnel, but I don't want anyone to just stumble over it when the sun comes up." He paused but no one moved, and suddenly he sighed. "Look, it's all right. There are no traps in the tunnel, it goes almost directly to my suite. Just go on!"   
  
Finally Harry nodded and he went down, followed by Seamus and Ron. Dean looked at Draco for a second then snorted. "I see a gazebo," he said. "I shoot the gazebo. No affect."   
  
Draco looked confused. "What?" he asked.   
  
"Sorry, it's just this joke I learned before coming to Hogwarts. The way you opened the trap reminded me." Seeing Draco's look he added, "don't worry about it." Grinning to himself he made his way into the tunnel, Draco came after him and closed the trap door.


	9. Into the Dungeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: The boys have succesfully defeated Malfoy Manor's defenses and have broken in. Now all they have to to is get Hermione and get out, and how hard can that be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Cassandra Claire has allowed me to use some of her ideas, all of them belong to her.
> 
> Author notes: Belated thanks to Cassandra Claire for the use of the man eating Topiary, the exploding bridge and the idea for a ghost buttler. Forgetting things like that is why I shouldn't be allowed to update after flying international for 12+ hours.  
> Special thanks to Jen for the wonderful beta job, and for listening to me whine about my writer's block. It's all thanks to her that this is getting out at all.

Draco gave a little sigh as he pulled the trapdoor closed behind him, muttering the spell that would lock it. Suddenly noticing the darkness he looked up to see that Harry, Weasley, and Finnigan had all lit their wands and wandered a ways down the passage.

" _Lumos_ ," he heard Thomas say, and the light that followed momentarily blinded him. "All secure?" the other boy asked.

"Yeah," Draco gave a small nod before similarly lighting his own wand. "Hey Potter," he called out. "Don't go too far."

Harry turned around to face him. "I thought you said the passage was safe." He didn't sound accusing, exactly, but it seemed a close thing to Draco.

"I said there were no traps," the blond reminded him as he and Thomas made their way down the corridor. "And there shouldn't be, but if my father has discovered this passage then . . ." he trailed off, not wanting to say more.

"Ah, but then you wouldn't know about them either, would you?" Finnigan put in. "At that point it stops mattering who leads, except it probably shouldn't be Harry."

"What?" Weasley asked.

"You know, keep the future savior of the wizarding world safe and all that." Finnigan was grinning but Harry scowled.

"Seamus," he started, but then sighed and changed the subject. "Where does this tunnel lead?" he asked, turning and continuing down it.

Draco lengthened his stride until he was next to the other boy and explained, "They open up in the east wing, in one of the rooms near my suite."

"You have your own suite?" the redhead sounded annoyed.

"Weasley, there are over a hundred rooms in the Manor, and only three residents. The east wing is supposed to be the children's wing, with rooms, bathrooms, and studies for up to six Malfoy children, two separate play areas, and enough housing for the children's nannies, wet nurses, tutors, personal assistants, cooks, and so on. But there aren't six Malfoy children, there's just me." Draco knew he sounded bitter and angry, but it felt good to whine, just this once. "Yes, I have my own suite. I have my own damn wing and servants and so on. After all, if I lived in the regular part of the Manor my parents might have actually had to see me once in a while."

The red head had no real answer to this, which was just as well.

Harry looked ready to say something, and it would probably have been sickeningly nice or pleasant, but Thomas spoke up before he could, for which Draco was secretly grateful. "So where do you think they'll be keeping Hermione?" he asked.

"Almost certainly in the dungeons," Draco said as they kept walking through the tunnel. Its walls were blank and unchanging, but from the time they'd been down here he thought they were probably a bit past the moat, possibly even getting close to the Manor building itself. "We can stop in my room, get some information, and then head down to get Granger out."

"Information?" Harry asked. "Information from whom?"

"Robert, the ghost butler." At the dark haired boy's look he continued, "Robert's been with the family for literal ages. He was hired in the late fourteen hundreds and has been serving us since then. Knows all the family secrets, is even more trustworthy than a house elf, and will do anything I say as long as I don't directly contradict an order from my father."

"Will he report to you father?" Finnigan asked, curious.

"No, not unless Lucius asks him specifically. Since I doubt he's expecting me to show up with you lot it's unlikely Robert will have any orders pertaining to me. That means as long as we don't get spotted or cause my father to start asking questions I can sneak you all in on my order."

"How can that work if he's your father's servant?" Even Weasley seemed curious now.

"He's not, or not directly. Robert's a servant to the Malfoys, and, since he's a ghost and will be with the family indefinitely, no single Malfoy can control him absolutely. He's completely loyal to the family, and will always do what's best for it, much the way the Manor wards are set to Malfoy blood." Seeing their strange looks he sighed. "It's old magic, purer than what's taught these days. Things like this only purebloods can use because it really is blood magic."

Now Finnigan looked affronted. "That's ridiculous. I'm a half-blood, but my mother's family is just as old as the Malfoys. I know for a fact that I can use the keep's defenses even though my father's a Muggle and it's old magic. You don't have to be pureblood to operate that sort of thing, just of the blood."

"Your mother's family has a keep?" Thomas asked, derailing the conversation unexpectedly. "You never mentioned that."

"Ah . . ." and now the smaller boy just blushed. "Well, they don't like me very much."

Thomas shot his boyfriend a look. "Really?" he asked in a noncommittal sort of way.

"Um . . ."

But now it was Harry's turn to change the subject. "I think we're there," he said, coming to a stop at the base of a set of stairs.

Draco blinked. He'd been distracted by the conversation. "Oh, yes. So we are. This way." And he began to lead them up the stairs.

 

***

 

"Come on, quietly." Draco had made them extinguish their wands before he opened the door into his hallway, so now the five of them were sneaking around in the dark. This, Seamus thought, was probably appropriate. Whispering and tiptoes, just the way to manage a forced entry and a jail break. However, he was realistic enough to recognize that it would have been easier if they didn't have to do it that way.

The Slytherin boy led them to one of several indistinguishable doors and opened it. The boys slid inside and he closed it after them, muttering " _Illumos_ ," which seemed to be the spell to light the room.

Seamus gaped at the enormous bedroom, which featured a large four poster draped in pale green silk, and a mahogany desk polished to a high shine that held several small objects. There was also a set of comfortable chairs placed with varying views out the picture window and in various relationships to the hidden lights and three doors which led, Seamus guessed, to the bathroom, the closet, and possibly one of those playrooms Draco had mentioned.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Draco spoke up. "And if you need it, the bathroom's through there." He pointed to the door in the left wall, then walked over to his desk. Dean headed into the bathroom and Seamus' eyes followed him, catching a glimpse of an enormous bath when he opened the door. His attention soon returned to Draco as the blond picked up a small glass bell from the top of the desk. He flicked his wrist lightly and a sweet high tone sounded in the room.

"What was that?" Ron snapped, clearly feeling jumpy.

Draco shrugged. "It let's Robert know I want to see him. He can hear it wherever he is but no one else can, don't worry. He'll be here when he can." The blond set the bell back on the desk then dropped into a chair near the window.

Harry sat down in a chair near Draco, leaning forward and starting to ask questions about the dungeons which Draco answered with a surprising and somewhat alarming amount of detail. Ron scowled but went to join the two of them while Seamus started examining the room.

On the wall next to the bed was a large bookshelf and the Irish boy wandered over to it, perusing the titles. There seemed to be the requisite set of spell books, both ones he recognized as schoolbooks and several that must have been given to him by his father. Most of those looked quite unpleasant, and some seemed old and expensive. There was a copy of _Moste Potente Potions_ as well as something called _On Foretelling and Foreshadowing: A Behavioral Guide_ , which he couldn't quite figure out. However, on a shelf above these magical tomes a large collection of fiction books was laid out. Some of them were even Muggle books, he was surprised to notice. Malfoy had copies of almost all of Shakespeare's writings, as well as a few plays by some author named Tom Stoppard. A series of novels lined in a row caught his attention: _Clio's Sunday_ , _Bec's Thousand_ , _Khirsah's Sacrifice_ , _Hito's Bones_ , and _Cora's Friends_. They seemed like a collection of romance novels from the titles, but their covers, he discovered, all featured a pair of boys leaning against each other back to back and looking seriously out of the picture.

Seamus shrugged and pushed the books back into order. He turned when he heard Dean come back out of the bathroom, again watching the other boy cross the room. The boys on the book covers had looked like they depended on other, he thought, like they trusted each other and were leaning against each other because one didn't need to watch the other to know what he would do. That was how he had always thought of Dean too, Seamus realized. He knew the black boy so well after four years, and at the same time he was starting to wonder how well he could get to know him. Now he hoped to get the chance, assuming they got out of this adventure alive. Seamus had no illusions about the dangers that they were in, the dangers Harry and Ron regularly threw themselves in the way of, but he also had no illusions about what he'd do if the danger turned not on him but on Dean. Dean was too important to lose. Thinking about this he headed over to the now available bathroom.

The bathroom was as lavish as anyone could wish, designed in soft whites and silvers and providing a bright contrast to the darker room he'd come from. The Irish boy goggled at the size of the bath and the enormous mirror which covered most of one wall but decided not to let anything in the Manor intimidate him, starting with the loo.

Leaving the bathroom again he paused, staring. Over where Harry, Draco, and Ron had been talking Draco was standing and Seamus could just see Harry and Ron kneeling behind their seats. In the middle of the room, out of the line of sight from the two crouching boys, floated a pale, ghostly figure dressed in a severe looking dark tunic over a light, tight sleeved shirt, and dark leggings that ended in tight dark boots. Seamus was surprised at the ghost's apparent youth. He couldn't have been older than 25 when he died, Seamus decided, and he began to wonder how he could have died so young and why he would have continued serving the Malfoy family after his death.

"Yes, Master Draco," the ghost who must be Robert was saying. "There has been a young girl installed in dungeons. She is in the cell next to your usual one, at the end of the hall." Draco scowled for several reasons, Seamus reckoned. "The entrance to the dungeons is guarded by two of Master Malfoy's associates."

"And her meals are delivered by the usual spells I assume?" Draco asked.

"Yes, of course. She sees no one, but is also not, ah, bothered by anyone." Seamus heard the strange emphasis in the butler's tone and noticed that Draco arched a brow at this, looking vaguely surprised, but the blond continued on another topic.

"What orders has my father left about me?" he asked.

"None sir."

"And has he left any orders about the girl or anyone not currently staying in the Manor?"

"None of the staff are to be anywhere in the dungeons, we are not to speak to her, or allow her to see us. Should we see anyone attempting to get to the dungeons we must tell Master Malfoy. Should we hear of any attempt to free her we must tell Master Malfoy. Should we see a certain Harry Potter or Ron Weasley we must tell Master Malfoy."

Draco actually smiled at this, although Seamus couldn't figure out why on earth he might do so. "Robert, these are my two acquaintances, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. We are going to wander around the Manor but we don't want to be bothered. Make sure that none of the staff see me or anyone who might have entered the Manor with me. Make sure none of the staff are ever near enough, in the walls or wherever they are, to hear me or anyone who might have come with me. Should anyone who does not command your service as I do ask after me or any other visitor to the Manor you will not tell them anything about me or anyone who might have come with me into the Manor. Now, how many people do you _see_ in this room?"

"I see three boys Master Draco, yourself, Mister Thomas and Mister Finnigan." Seamus would swear there was a hint of a smile on the butler's youthful face.

"And you understood my orders?" Draco asked.

"Perfectly Master Draco. None of the staff are to see or hear you or anyone who might have entered the Manor with you, and I am not to answer questions relating to you or those who might have come with you except to your father, who's position commands my response."

"Thank you, Robert," and now Draco did smile. "Your service to the family of Malfoy is as flawless as ever. I hope you shall continue to serve me as you always have, even when I am Master of the Manor."

"It will be my pleasure sir," Robert said.

Draco gave a smile. "You may go then," he said, and the ghost turned carefully in place and floated out.

As soon as he had passed from the room Draco dropped back into his seat. "Thank the gods for Robert," he said quietly.

"I don't understand," said Harry, rising from the floor. "He didn't see Ron or I, so he won't have to report us to your father, but won't his orders to the staff only apply to you, Seamus and Dean then?"

"No," Draco answered. "That's the beauty of this game. They're not to see anyone who _might_ have come with me. As none of them saw me enter, anyone who was not already here _might_ have come with me. Classic, isn't it?"

"Too weird," Dean answered. "And you and your father play this horrible 'who is smarter than whom' game often?"

"Always," Draco's smile died. "Come on," he said. "Let's get going."

And he stood up and strode across to the door, pulling it open and heading out into the hall.

 

***

 

As Draco lead them down various dimly lit corridors Dean tried to keep track of the path back to the secret entrance, but soon realized he was hopelessly lost. Instead he turned his thoughts to the strange dynamic that the Malfoy boy added to their group.

Ron was fairly easy to figure out. He didn't trust Draco and tried to be sure that he could always see what the blond was doing. He still seemed annoyed that they needed to rely on a Slytherin, especially this one, to rescue his girlfriend, but he seemed to be, if not relaxing where Draco was concerned, then at least focusing on all the other dangers there were.

Seamus was being funny. He wasn't exactly flirting with Malfoy, but his tone when addressing the admittedly good looking boy always had a strangely welcoming note to it, as though the Irish boy wanted Draco to know that he was accepted. Dean wasn't sure whether he liked that or not, but knew he'd have to let it be for now. Things were too dangerous right now, and besides, he and Seamus had only finally talked about how they felt a few days ago. He still had too many questions about what that meant.

As for himself, Dean was sort of curious about when he'd started thinking of the blond as 'Draco'. He remembered Seamus asking him last night when Harry had started speaking of him as Draco, and Dean wondered if he should worry that the blond boy seemed to be insinuating himself into their circle. He didn't really think this could be a trap, not when he remembered Draco's tone as he yelled that he wasn't his father, but that didn't mean the boy didn't have a plan of some sort.

Which just left Harry. It was always hard to figure out what Harry thought about anything if he wasn't ready to talk about it. Probably, Dean mused, a remainder from when the other boy had had to hide all his feelings from his horrible family. But the tension between Harry and Draco was very strange. It kept changing: first they'd both be all business, then one or the other would say something sharp, and then they'd ignore each other, concentrating on where they were going or one of the other three boys. But then again, when Draco had saved Harry from the darts out on the grounds he had looked really alarmed, and Dean couldn't help thinking back to Harry's comment to Seamus after his first meeting with Draco. 'But Seamus, I don't want to hear anything about sex gods, ok.' What _had_ the two of them been discussing besides Malfoy's ogre of a father?

Suddenly Draco came to a stop in the middle of the hall. He waved his hand, gathering them in to him and began to whisper. "The tapestry on the wall hides a passage down to the entrance of the dungeons. Robert said there were two guards and they'll probably be on either side of the door. This passage will take us down slightly to the right and on the other side of the hall from the entrance, which means we'll probably be able to get one shot out before they know we're there. Suggestions?"

"Do we know who it'll be?" Harry whispered.

"No," Draco shook his head. "I don't think Robert knew, which means they're undoubtedly Death Eaters, hoods and all."

"Then they'll probably have a set of standard guards set up all the time," Ron he spoke up. "It's something my dad's been complaining about. The aurors can't really get a first shot in because they wander around with spells up against most of the standard hexes, curses, and attack spells."

"Oh. So what do we do?" Dean asked.

"We do something non-standard." Seamus grinned.

"Like what?" Ron said.

"Well," Seamus began, "if they're guarded against attack spells why not hit them with defense spells?"

"What good would that do?" Draco actually sounded curious.

Seamus paused and seemed to think it out. "Say we drop a shielding spell on them, one of the reflective ones. Well, the stronger reflective spells aren't usually used because they reflect on the inside too. Now we don't know what sort of spells they're guarded against but presumably they do. Ron, if you knew there was a normal way to guard against six spells and that a lot of people were using it, would you attack someone who attacked you using those six spells?"

"No," Ron answered slowly, clearly not sure what Seamus was driving at.

"I get it," said Dean. "They know there are people who are immune to the spells they're immune to, so they won't use those spells. Instead they'll use something they're not immune to and then what ever they use will reflect off of the shield and hit them, yes?"

"Yes," Seamus grinned.

"Makes sense to me, I guess," Harry put in. "So who does the spell? I don't think I know the one you're referring to Seamus."

"I'll do it," Dean offered. "Seamus and I have been working on this one."

Draco nodded, then moved to the wall and lifted the edge of the tapestry. "After you then," he said as they all readied their wands.

Dean slipped through the opening, followed by Seamus and Harry. He heard some hushed whispers, then Draco's light tread on the stairs and Ron's heavier step. He soon came to a blank wall, but heard Draco mutter behind him, "Just tap on the wall with your wand." He steeled himself and followed these instructions. The wall disappeared and he stepped forward, looking to the left where two large men in robes and hoods were leaning against a door.

" _Speculum Contego_!" Dean yelled, then watched the two men jump and turn to face him.

"Who's that?" one of them cried.

"Dunno. Get him!" They both drew their wands.

" _Acer Inuria_!" one voice cried.

" _Kaerichi_!" yelled the second.

These were followed almost immediately by cries of pain and horror as the two Death Eaters found them selves subject to their own curses.

"Wow," Dean heard Ron whisper behind him. "I don't even know what those spells should do."

"Well, the first would be, um, . . . " Seamus paused as he worked it out. "Severe injury, I think. The other one sounded oriental, but I don't know the language." He caught Harry staring at him. "What? Hermione's not the only one in the magical languages course this year."

"Right," said Draco. He stepped out into the hall and walked carefully over to where the two men were lying on the ground, noticing a fairly large puddle of blood forming a perfect circle at the interior wall of the shield. "They look remarkably out of it, but I bet a normal _Impedimentia_ spell or the Whole Body Locker curse isn't going to hold them."

"I know," said Harry. "Hey, Dean, let the shield go, I want to try something."

"Are you crazy?" Ron exclaimed. "Harry, they may just be waiting for us to drop the shield before they attack again."

"I'm going to bet not Weasley," Draco said. "You haven't seen the blood yet."

Ron stepped down the corridor and suddenly turned quite pale. "Ah," was all he managed to say before swallowing convulsively.

"Right," Dean said. " _Finite Incantatum_."

Harry raised his wand. " _Baendiget_ ," he said quietly and the two men stopped moving entirely, although they didn't look as though they were dead despite of the large blood pool.

"Ah," Draco sighed. "The Madman's Restraint. Very nice Potter." He looked down at the two Death Eaters and a curious look crossed his face. "So, which of my friends or relatives or friend's parents are you?" he asked, before leaning down to pull one of the masks off.

The face seemed somewhat familiar to Dean, although he knew he'd never seen the man before.

"Hello Mr. Goyle. I take it the other is our dear Mr. Crabbe? How good to see you again." The blond drew back his foot as though he might kick the downed man.

"Don't." Harry and Draco stared at each other for a second before Draco relented.

"Whatever," he muttered, then turned to the door to the dungeon. "Well, she'll be through here. Shall we?" He reached out to touch the wood with the palm of his left hand and said quite clearly " _Ouvrir_ ," and the door swung open. "This way." The Slytherin started down the stairs.

 

***

 

The darkness was not absolute; she was clear on that. There was a small crack along the bottom of the door that let in a little light, just enough to make out the door, and when her meals had come the tray glowed for as long as there was anything worth eating on it. This was useful because she could leave a small piece of bread or a few vegetables and have light.

The silence, on the other hand, was complete and uninterrupted. If she was still, there was nothing to hear and, though at the beginning of her imprisonment she had yelled and raged, now she was quiet, accepting the silence and using it. Because she was quiet when the creak of the door opening came she could hear it, even though the door to the dungeons was dozens of yards away.

Hermione held her breath, listening to the quick light steps rushing down the hall towards her and the low voices whose words she couldn't quite make out.

She heard the steps come to a stop outside her door, saw the slight occlusion of the light from the hall. Then she heard a voice which was somehow familiar calling out " _Ouvrir_!" A soft click signaled the unlocking of the door and Hermione shot to her feet, trying to prepare herself for whatever might be on the other side of the door.

However she was not prepared to hear Ron's voice call out, "Hermione!" or to be engulfed in his arms.

"Ron?" she asked, startled. "Oh Ron!" The two of them clutched at each other, whispering little questions and reassurances. Finally she stepped back, looking him in the eye. "But what are you doing here Ron?"

"We had to rescue you, we had to." Ron pulled her back to him, kissing her roughly. "Are you ok?" he asked breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

"I'm," she started, then dropped her head to his shoulder. "I'm alright now," she finished quietly.

"Weasley, we don't have time for this," said the voice which had opened the door. Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy outlined in the doorway by the light from the hall.

"Malfoy?" she asked, incredulous.

"Hello Granger," he said. "I'm not kidding Weasley. Lucius wasn't expecting me so he didn't bother to ward against the habit of all doors to open for any Malfoy, but he undoubtedly has spells up to let him know if anyone disturbs her. We've got to move."

Hermione blinked, the stared up at Ron who nodded at Malfoy. "Fine," the redhead said. "Where do we go?" He started to hustle her out of the cell, which she was glad enough to leave, and in the hall she spotted Harry, Seamus, and Dean.

"What's going on?" she finally asked, confused as to the presence of the extra boys. Being saved by Harry and Ron made sense, but why was Malfoy there?

"It's a rescue, what's it look like?" Seamus quipped as they started hurrying down the hall.

"We've got to get you out of thisch place schweetheart," Dean added in a rather bad Humphrey Boggart impression.

She smiled at them but her smile wavered when she heard Harry ask Malfoy, "Which way Draco?" _Since when does he call Malfoy Draco?_ she thought.

"The main door is the only way in or out of the dungeons but we've probably got a little time. No need to run," he said. "Well, not yet."

"Excuse me," Hermione put in as they rushed toward the stairs. "What is Malfoy doing here?" She managed to keep her tone from being accusatory only by virtue of being so relieved to be out of the cell.

"What I'm doing here, Granger, is getting you out of here and keeping them out of trouble. How do you think they got into the Manor in the first place?" Malfoy's voice was level but there was a hint of annoyance in it.

Hermione had no reply to this but Harry stepped into the discussion. "Draco," he started and when the blond looked up at him he shook his head. "We need to concentrate don't we?"

The Slytherin gave a sigh and nodded. Rushing past him up the stairs he slid the door part way open. "It's clear for now," he said. "Hurry up." The others ran up the stairs and they all slipped out into the hallway. "Look," he glanced around. "You'll need to head out through the secret entrance, the door opens when you pull on the left candlestick. Once you're out just run for the main gate. There's not going to be any more point sneaking around and getting through the Manor defenses without me will be too dangerous."

"What do you mean without you?" Dean asked, looking worried. "You're coming aren't you?"

"I'm going to provide a distraction." Malfoy looked grim and Hermione could imagine why. She might not know what he was doing here but she could guess what would happen when someone found out he was here.

"That's crazy," Seamus spoke up. "You'll be killed."

"I'm dead anyway," Draco said. "Lucius is going to know I was here and there won't be anything I can do to stop him. At least this way I can be useful."

"Maybe there's nothing you can do to stop him," Harry spoke up, "but I bet there's something _we_ can do." Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry," Ron said. "We're going to need you to get out of here."

"No you don't," Harry said. "Ron, you've got to make sure Hermione's safe. Seamus, Dean, you guys make sure Ron's safe." Harry grinned.

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much." Hermione was kind of annoyed at Harry's tone.

"Granger," Draco spoke up, "you don't have a wand anymore, you can't take care of anyone." Her mouth snapped shut on a retort as she realized he was right.

"So what are you two going to do then?" Dean asked.

"I'm going to take care of whoever tried to hurt me through my friends, and he's," and here Harry jerked his thumb at Draco, "going to help. I think Lucius Malfoy deserves to learn a lesson."

Draco snorted. "Stupid bloody Gryffindor bravery is going to get you killed one of these days."

"That's right," Harry said with a hint of challenge. "Now, are you coming or not?"

Draco sighed. "Finnigan, Thomas, think you can find the way back to the tunnel?" When Seamus nodded he said, "Good. Get going."

 _That's odd,_ thought Hermione as the four of them turned and slipped through a door in the wall. _What was it about him that's got me thinking of him as Draco?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes: On the spells, Speculum Contego means I shield with a mirror in Latin, Acer Inuria is a severe injury in Latin, and Kaerichi is a blood spurt in Japanese. Baendiget is to restrain animals, unruly children or madmen in German, and Ouvrir means to open up or unlock in French. The book titles on Draco's shelf are variations on some of the fics hosted on this archive.


	10. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: The boys make their final preperations for the oncoming storm, but will it be enough? Harry and Draco desperetly try to provide enough of a distraction for the others to get away, while Seamus and Dean try to keep Ron on track and escape from the Manor. But what surprises await within the hidden depths of the library - and each other's minds?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Cassandra Claire has allowed me to use some of her ideas, all of them belong to her.
> 
> Author notes: So many thanks to Clio for a wonderful beta job, and for putting up with me fussing about with the darker parts, even though I know she doesn't like them. She's a woobie.  
> Much love to the K&G crew. There's stuff in here just for them. In this chapter I remind everyone why I claim to write romance, and I prove just how evil I really am.

Draco watched as Finnigan lead the other three Gryffindors through the passage away from the dungeons. When the last of them had slipped out of view he turned to Harry. "Well," he said quietly, "if we're going to do this we'd better move now."

Harry nodded at him and Draco turned away, silently leading the other boy down to the end of the hall, opening the door at the end with another " _Ouvir_ ," and passing through it with barely a glance behind. From there he made his way through another hallway, a pair of doors, slipped past yet another passage-concealing tapestry and headed into a small sitting room. "Where are we going?" Harry spoke up behind him, breaking the quiet. Draco stopped and looked at the black-haired boy. "We're going to provide a distraction," he said. "We're in a sitting room," Harry replied. "We haven't seen anyone at all and don't seem to be going anywhere, so exactly how distracting can we be?" Draco sighed. He could tell that Harry still didn't trust him. It was annoying but he couldn't really blame the other boy for it. "I'm going to Lucius' study. He's probably taken the direct route to the dungeons from there so if we hurry we'll get there while he's out. He'll miss the others because theyÕve gone in entirely the other direction and when he gets back to the study we'll be ready for him." "Ah," said Harry quietly. "Ready for him to do what?" "Haven't figured that part out yet," Draco admitted, "but it'll come to me." The two of them set off again, walking abreast this time. As they made their way through a pair of servants corridors and another sitting room Draco kept getting the feeling that he was being watched but every time he looked around there was still no one. He couldn't imagine who it could be because he knew none of the servants would be there and there was no way his father could have gotten there. The fourth time he felt it he caught a motion to his right as he glanced over. The flicker of motion and the slight swing of hair was enough to convince him that he knew who'd been watching him. "What is it Harry?" he asked. Harry seemed to redden a touch as he met Draco's eyes. "Um," he finally said. "Well, I was just . . . I don't understand . . . " "What?" Draco found Harry's lack of explanation baffling and obnoxious, although he had to admit that the blush looked kind of appealing on the normally serious boy. "How can you be so angry at your father?" Harry finally spit out, blushing even harder. "I don't understand." Draco was stunned, staring at him. "What do you mean?" he asked, a little louder than he'd meant to. "You know what he's like, I've told you . . . " and now it was Draco's turn to trail off. "Yeah, but . . . but he's your father, Draco." Harry looked so earnestly confused, and he was so clearly missing the point. "So what," Draco said bitterly. "So he gave me some genes. Doesn't mean anything. Not after what he's done since then." "Draco," Harry began, but Draco cut him off. "Look, Harry, you're not going to get this. You've idolized a pair of mythical parental figures who you've never known," Draco knew he was probably stepping over some line but it really wasn't a topic he was comfortable with. "Trust me, Lucius Malfoy as a father has absolutely no relation to whatever dream you've come up with of the 'perfect Potter parents'." As Harry's face began to cloud over Draco rushed ahead. "Do I have to go into detail Potter?" he asked harshly as his gray eyes flashed. "I've told you about the private cell in the dungeon but do you _really_ want to know what went on down there?" Harry paled, then composed himself. "Draco," he said, "I, I . . . no," he finally ended. "You . . . I, I trust you." "What?" and Draco's anger left him in a rush. "What do you mean?" he asked, staring at the other boy. "I mean I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hassled you. I know you've got reason to be here, to be helping me. And I trust you, really I do." Those bright green eyes of Harry's bore into him. "I trust you," he repeated, as though not entirely sure he'd said it right before. "Oh," was all Draco could muster in reply, and he glanced down, breaking away from the powerful gaze. "We ought to keep moving," Harry said after a few seconds, and Draco looked around the room, slowly remembering where they were. "Right," he agreed. "Here, this way." They started off again, and this time it was Draco's turn to flash subtle glances at Harry. *** "Come on," Seamus' quiet voice floated back to the three he was leading. "Coast's clear, but keep quiet." The four of them snuck down the corridor glancing down all the halls they passed and tiptoeing past doors. "Ron," Dean heard Hermione's low voice from where he walked behind the two of them. "Ron, I don't get it. Why was Draco here? Why is he helping Harry? Is Harry going to be safe with him facing Voldemort?" Ron's replying voice was very tight. "I don't know. I don't understand why he trusts that foul little . . ." "Shh!" Seamus came to a sudden stop in front of them while peering around the corner. He looked back and whispered furiously. "Look, we can talk about it once we're out of the damn building, but 'till then, _shut up_!" Ron scowled but they both fell silent and the four of them continued on their way. After a few more turns, some long corridors, and one confused detour through a parlor, they finally found themselves back at the entrance to the secret tunnel. "Damn," Seamus' muffled curse snapped all of their attentions to the Irish boy. "What?" Dean asked, moving close to the dull-appearing wall. "Draco didn't tell us how to _open_ the damned passage." Dean looked at Seamus, his eyes widening in horror. "Damn!" Ron agreed, momentarily forgetting Seamus' injunctions against noise and earning himself a round of shushings. "What's that word Draco was using to open all the other doors?" Dean asked. "Um," Seamus reached out and placed his hand on the wall where he knew the entrance to be. " _Ouvir_!" he whispered, but nothing happened. He scowled at the wall and said, "It must be a blood spell, like the one on the outer wall." "Well, there's got to be a way to make it open," Hermione said, trying to sound more practical than shaken. "Here, lend me . . ." and without finishing her sentence she plucked Ron's wand out of his hand. " _Alohamora_!" she started. " _Offnung_! _Expedio_!" Seamus joined in. " _Effugio_! _Huir_!" Nothing happened and both of them began spitting out spells more quickly, frequently overlapping. " _Liberar_!" " _Open Sesame_!" " _Abscondo Ianus_!" " _Weggang_!" "Try French, that's what _Ouvir_ is." Dean's quick interruption gave them pause, and they quickly continued, but now their two voices did overlap. " _Secret Sortie_!" Seamus called. Hermione's comand, " _Couloir sans danger_!" combined with it. But the only thing Dean could hear was " _Secret Couloir_ ," and silently the wall slid sideways, revealing the passage they sought. "Oh, good," Seamus sounded a little stunned at the sudden release. "Well then . . ." and he trailed off, looking at Hermione. "Let's go," Ron glanced at Dean who nodded and they headed down the steps which had been revealed while the other's followed afterward. *** At last Draco turned out of the small passageway they'd been following and headed down a large corridor, knowing that at the end of it was his father's study. He was quiet, still mulling over the implications of Harry's last statement, of the fact that Harry trusted him. He wasn't at all sure what it was he'd done to earn the other boy's trust, especially not after all of the shit he'd put him through during their younger years. He thought back over all of the incidents of the past, finally pausing on the horrible confrontation on the Hogwarts Express last year. He slowed his pace and then stopped, thinking. After a few seconds he turned and fixed the black haired boy with a questioning stare. "Harry?" he said. "Yes?" Harry looked straight back at him, green eyes open wide. "Um," Draco stalled out, then glanced quickly around. "We're here," he finally said. "Oh." And at that Draco turned and placed his hand on the doorknob to his father's study, which he had stopped in front of. " _Jetzt, als ich ein Malfoy bin, muessen Sie oeffnen_ ," he intoned slowly. Silently the study door swung inward, revealing Lucius Malfoy's private study and the two boys passed silently through. Draco had been in this room fairly often when he was younger and was used to it, but now, watching Harry look around in something approaching awe he couldn't help but try and see it as Harry must. The mahogany desk was longer than Weasley was tall, and certainly must have cost more than Weasleys' entire home, with its ebony inlay and gold drawer knobs. The wide windows were shaded with heavy, dark velvet curtains and the chairs were all upholstered in matching dark leather. Everywhere there were books, on the shelves on the wall, laying on the desk, sitting on the small reading tables, and many of them were clearly very old and valuable while most of them looked quite ominous. On one wall there was a large fireplace, the mantle bearing several lovely and delicate heirlooms as well as a set of silver candlesticks with candles in them, the candles being notable for their deep brown shade, the color of dried blood. Looking around at this obvious show of everything his father stood for Draco realized he needed to go forward with the question he'd balked at asking in the hall. If he was going to go through with turning away from all this he needed to know what he was turning to. "Harry," he started again, and once again those deep green eyes pierced into him. "Harry, what happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament? What happened to Diggory, and to you?" Harry inhaled quietly, his gaze fixed on the blonde, apparently searching his soul, and Draco knew he couldn't leave it at that. "Please Harry," he continued. "I need to know what happened, what they . . . what he did. I know he was there, but he didn't tell me anything. What did they do?" Draco trailed off, knowing he couldn't make Harry say anything but desperately hoping that he would, hoping that desire to know would show in his eyes as Harry stared at him. Finally, after what felt like hours but couldn't even have been a minute, Harry nodded and began to speak. "Barty Crouch Jr. had enchanted the Tri-Wizard cup," he began without preamble. "He turned it into a portkey and set it to take whoever touched it to the graveyard where Voldemort's father was buried. He'd gone to great lengths to try and assure that I would be the first to reach the cup, would be the one to win. He almost succeeded too . . . god, if only he had." Harry broke off for a second, then composed himself, looking up at Draco before he continued. "Cedric and I helped each other with the last obstacle in the course. He wouldn't have made it through with out my help, but I was hurt, my leg was twisted when I intervened. I told him to take it . . . I'd been hurt, couldn't make it to the cup before him so he'd won, but he had too much honor. He said he wouldn't have gotten past the spider if not for me and insisted I take it. We decided . . . we agreed . . ." Harry paused, inhaling and turning away from Draco, staring at the floor. "We both took the cup together, we thought it'd be a tie for the two Hogwarts champions. And then the portkey kicked in. It dropped us into the cemetery, and we saw Wormtail coming toward us - he had Voldemort . . . it hurt so much - and, I heard him." Harry started shaking a little, trembling all over. "I heard Voldemort. His voice came out of the darkness, 'K . . . Kill the spare!' Then Wormtail . . . God. Wormtail killed Cedric. There was nothing I could do." This time when Harry stopped looked like he couldn't continue, like he might never stop shaking, but when Draco stepped across the room and rested his hand on the other boy's forearm Harry looked up at him and for a second he seemed to relax. "They tied me to a tombstone, and Wormtail did a spell, a potion really. He used Voldemort's father's bones, and his own flesh - he cut off his own hand - and he cut me, stole my blood to give Voldemort his body back. It was horrible . . . I just wanted him to drown in that cauldron, for it all to end. But it didn't, it didn't. He rose and stepped forward, and he pressed his finger to the tattoo on Wormtail's arm, summoning the Death Eaters. "They came. They came and they crawled to him, scraping their way across the ground. And he spoke to them. He named some of them aloud." Harry had seemed to have gone into something of a trance as he told his story, no longer looking around, his eyes had slid down to where Draco held onto him, but now he looked up, meeting Draco's gray gaze. "He named your father, and your father claimed to have been waiting for him, swore to be faithful." Draco's heart lurched. All of this was so much to take in, and yet he still felt he had to know what his family was involved in, what he had almost become. "Finally they remembered me, bleeding and tied to the grave. Voldemort released me and challenged me to a Wizard's duel." Draco gasped at this, remembering his own duels with Harry. "We fought, and somehow our wands . . . our wands interfered with each other. They're made from the same substance and are brothers somehow. They disrupted each other, and I saw reflections of all of the spells he had cast with his wand. I . . ." and Harry's voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper. "I saw my mother and father. They, they distracted him, allowed me to escape, allowed me to get away, back to Hogwarts and Dumbledore . . . " Harry looked so torn up, his eyes full of unshed tears and pain that Draco really couldn't help himself. He went with his instincts, reaching out his other arm to pull Harry into an embrace, trying to comfort the black haired boy, and he felt Harry relax, sliding his arms around Draco and holding him back, just as tightly. They stood so, reveling in the feeling of being held by the friend they had never allowed themselves to have. But soon they both pulled away and Draco looked out from his gray eyes with a new resolution in his heart. "Right," he said, stepping back, although his arms were loath to release the warmth that was Harry. "It's distraction time." Harry nodded, and when Draco told him to collect books from off the tables and toss them into the fireplace he did so without question. *** As the four Gryffindors made their way quickly through the long tunnel and out to the grounds they held a hushed conversation. "I don't understand why Draco was here," Hermione said. "He . . ." Seamus started but Ron interrupted him. "Now you're calling him Draco too?" he asked. "That's what I don't understand. Malfoy's a complete bastard and everybody's just taken him into their hearts." "Come off it Ron," Dean snarled. "He's risking his life just as much as we are, more even since this is his family and who knows what they can do to him." "Exactly," Ron spat. "It's his family, why the hell should he be helping us?" "Because he knows that what they're doing is wrong," Seamus put in, scowling at the redhead. "Took the little ferret long enough to figure it out, didn't it?" "How did this start?" Hermione cut into their argument. "I can't imagine he just waltzed up and said 'Hey guys, planing to bust the mudblood out? Want some help?'" Seamus grinned, partly at the face Hermione was making, but also because for once he and Dean knew something about Harry that the other two didn't. "It started after the first attack, when Justin was hurt," he said. "When Dean and I ran out to see him we found Draco," Ron snorted at Seamus' use of the blonde's first name. "We found _Draco_ in a classroom, curled up on a desk and looking like he was going to cry. Harry found the three of us there and he and Malfoy, Draco, ended up talking later that night." Dean took up the story there. "They met a few other times before everything blew up and Draco showed Harry a letter from his father. Apparently Lucius Malfoy is a truly evil bastard whose relationship with his son is really fucked up." Ron snorted, muttering, "I could have told you about the evil bit," but Hermione shushed him and Dean continued. "Since then they're not enemies anymore. Their relationship has, um, changed. . . " Dean trailed off and Seamus shot the other boy a glance, wondering if the black boy had been picking up on the same things going on between Harry and Draco that he had. "Oh," said Hermione, and odd look in her eyes as she glanced back and forth between Dean and Seamus, then shot a look back down the hall behind them. "Oh?" Ron asked, sounding annoyed. "What do you mean 'Oh'? I still don't understand why Harry's willing to trust that -" "Look," Seamus cut him off. "Do you trust Harry?" The Irish boy's voice was hard as he stared at his roommate, and when Ron nodded he went on. "Well then, you're just going to have to trust his judgement, as well as him. He thinks having Draco's help is a good thing, and that the two of them can distract Malfoy the Elder long enough for us to get away. He's your friend, so let him do what he has to do, the way he has to do it." Seamus was about to add more but didn't get the chance as Dean grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop and signaling the others to stop as well. "We're here," he said simply, gesturing to the stairs which could be seen ahead of them by the light of their wands. "When we get out there, run straight for the exit. If they spot us, if they catch us . . . " he let his words trail off. Ron nodded, dropping the subject and concentrating on the task ahead of them and Hermione reached out and clasped his hand, gazing up the stairs. "Ron," Seamus said, "you go first. Take Hermione and get out of here." He looked up into Dean's eyes. "We'll run back up," he said, although his voice held a tone of questioning. Dean nodded, and the two of them watched as Ron led Hermione up the stairs, pausing at the top to lift open the trapdoor. Seamus saw the others' feet climb up out of the tunnel and felt Dean release the arm Seamus had forgotten he was holding as the black boy moved toward the steps. "Dean," he called out, halting the other boy. "Yes?" Dean turned ever so slightly and started to look back, so he was slightly off balance when Seamus launched himself at the taller boy. Seamus wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, shaking a little bit and thinking he would never let go. "It'll be ok, won't it?" the Irish boy whispered, hating the slight tremble to his voice. "Harry, us . . . it'll be ok, right?" "Of course," Dean said, and he pulled the smaller boy into a deep kiss as though trying to prove it. But Seamus suspected Dean was seeking to reassure himself just as much. In seconds they had broken from each other and, grabbing each other's hands, they pelted up the stairs and into the dark night where their friends were waiting for them. *** "Draco?" Harry's voice was startling after the amount of time they'd spent gathering books in silence. They had a fairly large pile laying in the cold fire place and Draco was standing on one of the cabinets, reaching for books on the top shelf. "Yes?" the blond turned, dropping his gray eyes to where the Gryffindor was looking up at him from the floor. "I assume you have a plan for all these books?" Harry gestured to the other side of the room without moving his gaze. "Yes, of course," was all Draco said as he went back to reaching for the shelf, aware that Harry had yet to look away from him. "Well?" Draco was silent as he felt his fingers close on a heavy tome. He pulled it out from the shelf and the weight of it was almost enough to knock him off of the cabinet. It looked like a slim, or at least relatively slim, volume, but felt as though time and the dark souls that had used it over the years were pulling down on it. "Found it," the low whisper slipped from Draco's lips as he gazed down at the book. _Summoning and Reviving, Banishing and Destroying: A Treatise on Daemons and the Undead._ Quickly the Slytherin turned, but the rash motion was enough to unbalance him slightly. He managed to catch himself before he fell but the book dropped down onto the ground at Harry's feet where the green eyes rested on the page it had opened to. " _. . . blood spells being the most powerful_ ," Harry began reading aloud. "And of these, blood of the fallen one being used to retie the fled soul. And when such blood be not available, blood being freely given by one loving of the passed one. And such blood also being not available, blood taken from one hating of the dead." Harry broke off, kneeling swiftly down as Draco scrambled off the cabinet to look over his shoulder. " _Flesh, blood, and bone being largely similar and of little difference, being it then possible to combine all such things to a soul which is not fled, then might it be conceivable a destroyed body to recreate? The answer seeming to be yes, the question of this treatise then turns to the destruction thereof. A creature so raised, differing greatly from the reawakened corpse, offers unto those that would stop it many more difficulties._ " _Being as the new body, having composite parts taken from or given by others, now possesses qualities like unto that other or those others. Should it be in fact others, plural, and should the creator having had forethought into it's creation, the new creature, for the reembodied one mayn't be thought to be the same as it were before, may posses protections not normal but rather particular to itself._ " Harry looked over his shoulder at Draco. "Draco, this sounds like . . . it sounds like the spell that Voldemort used . . ." "Yes," the blond said, leaning in for a better look at the page and then picking up the recitation at a different spot. " _Such being so, banishing is oft thought to be the swiftest, if least efficacious or permanent method of removal. Banishing being well covered elsewhere in this text we move on to proper, complete, and full destruction, as had one not constructed the creature oneself, or in many cases even if one had, destruction is like to be high on a list of priorities. The simplest method, luckily for those wishing to destroy this unique undead creature and unluckily for those to whom it's creation is useful, is by and large very simple. All it requires is that the donors, unwilling and otherwise, seeking fully this selfsame destruction, call forth . . ._ " "Call forth what?" Harry asked, blinking at the sudden stop and glancing back at the book. "I don't know. The rest of the page has been removed." Draco reached over Harry's shoulder to finger the ragged rip in the parchment. "I guess somebody doesn't want us to know how to get rid of him." Harry gave a little sigh of what sounded like dismay mixed with despair, then started as the other boy suddenly snapped the book shut and picked it up off the floor. "Come on then, on with the plan." The Slytherin strode over and tossed this last book onto the fireplace, then pulled out his wand. "What _is_ the plan?" Harry asked, sounding a little annoyed. "We're creating a distraction, right?" Draco didn't wait for Harry to answer, simply carried on explaining. "Well, this is certain to get Lucius' attention." And with that the blond pointed his wand at the pile and muttered, " _Incendio_!"

The books burst into flame and Harry gasped as a horrible wailing started echoing through the room. "What?" he cried, looking around.

"The books are warded against harm and larceny," Draco explained. "For some reason father dearest didn't want people walking off or destroying his precious materials."

"So now we do what exactly?"

"We wait?"

"We _what_?" Harry looked truly incredulous. "You mean we're just going to sit here and wait for your father to come kill us?"

"It will be distracting," and Draco found he couldn't help himself. He grinned, both at the faint look of horror on the other boy's face and at what he imagined his father would look like when he discovered his son and his enemy, calmly waiting for him while his library burned.

"I don't think I can take this," Harry said, going to sit in one of the chairs facing the fire. "You've gone mad, haven't you?"

"No," Draco denied this. "I'm just . . . I just want the chance to strike back, even if it's just the once."

"Ah," Harry leveled an inscrutable gaze at the blond. "Well, to coin a phrase, if the wait doesn't kill you then Lucius Malfoy will."

"Don't worry," Draco said. "I don't think we're going to have a very long wait." Harry cocked his head at this and Draco saw his eyes widen as the Gryffindor heard what had prompted the blonde's comment. Down the hall they could both hear the rapidly approaching pounding of feet, and as one they both turned toward the door, readying their wands.

***

The four Gryffindors pounded across the grounds of the manor, putting more and more space between them and their enemies, but knowing in their hearts that it might not be enough.

"The drive is over that way! Come on!" Ron shouted, grabbing his girlfriend's hand and tugging her in the indicated direction.

Unfortunately this unexpected pull unbalanced Hermione and she miss-stepped, stumbling a little and falling to the ground. The others stopped to help her up and that's when they heard the footsteps behind them. Dean spun around and gave a little gasp.

"Damn!" he hissed. "They've found us." He looked back to where Ron and Seamus had gotten Hermione back to her feet and were staring at the oncoming pursuit. "Go on," he said quickly. "Run! Get Hermione out, stay safe."

The black boy drew his wand and took up a stance facing the two Death Eaters who were chasing them and heard a muttered "Get going," from Seamus. Dean felt rather than saw his boyfriend come to stand next to him, also readying his wand.

"Seamus," Dean began, "hurry up, get out of here. Go on, I'll take care of . . . " But Seamus cut him off.

"No way. You're going to need help on this one."

"I'll be fine, but I need to know you're safe . . . so get moving."

"Nope," Seamus' response was short and to the point, but Dean wasn't having any of it.

"Look Seamus, this is going to be difficult and I don't want you to get hurt." Dean knew he sounded a little inane but in the moonlight he could see the cloaked men getting closer and closer and he couldn't help himself.

"I'm _not_ leaving you!" Seamus said emphatically. "It's going to be difficult and I'm going to help."

"Seamus, please, I . . . I need you to be safe, I need to know you're going to get out of here. Seamus . . . " Dean paused, but charged on, knowing the danger was increasing and knowing it needed to be said. "Seamus, I love you!"

Seamus just snorted. "No deal," he said.

"What?" Dean was nonplussed.

"Look Dean," Seamus sounded annoyed now. "You've got really rotten timing, you know that? You could have said so anytime this past week, but now you do it to try and get me to run off so you can die heroically. I love you too, but I'm not going to let you do that. I am no man's grieving lover Dean Thomas."

"But . . ."

"No buts," Seamus cut him off. "You're just going to have to live through this with me. Then we'll talk." And the Irish boy wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed him again, stealing his breath. "Well?" Seamus asked when he released Dean.

"Oh," was all that he could manage.

Seamus grinned. "Besides," he added, "I don't intend to leave you later, so why should I start now?"

Dean finally gave in and hugged the smaller boy tightly, imprinting the feel of Seamus in his arms onto his memory. "Alright then," he said, releasing Seamus. "If that's the way it's going to be . . . "

"It is," Seamus interrupted.

"Then let's do this." And the two of them turned and faced their oncoming foes, preparing them selves as the Death Eaters reached the edge of their spell range.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Note: On the spells: Offnen is German for 'to open'. Expedio is Latin for 'to release, set free'. Effugio is Latin for 'escape, flee from' and Huir is 'to flee' in Spanish.
> 
> Liberar means to release in Spanish, Abscondo Ianus is secret passage in Latin, Weggang is a varriation on 'go away' in German. Couloir sans danger means 'safe passage', Secret Sortie means 'secret exit', and Secret Couloir is Secret Passage, all in French.
> 
> Jetzt, als ich ein Malfoy bin, muessen Sie oeffnen, translates to "Now, since I am a Malfoy, you must open," and is German.
> 
> My appologies if any of these are wrong. There's only so much you can do with an online dictionary and a few years of language instruction.


	11. Aufigio!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Outnumbered several dozen to one, our six heros have two choices: fight and probably die, or run.  
> Running would be the clever option here, but then, Gryffindors have never been big on 'clever'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Cassandra Claire has allowed me to use some of her ideas, all of them belong to her.
> 
> Author notes: Many thanks to Clio for making me keep working on this, and for helping me out with the beta when I was quite convinced it wasn't worth fixing the damn chapter.  
> Even more thanks to all of you who are still reading this in spite of my incredible slowness. Sorry guys. My only saving grace is that it hasn't been a year since the last one. Quite...

"Dean, watch out!" Seamus cried, seeing a bright red light streak towards his friend. He dove sideways, knocking them both to the ground then rolled quickly and came up crying. " _Acerbus_!"

The Death Eater dodged sideways as his partner readied a spell. Seamus couldn't hear what the man said, but spotted the spell coming towards the two of them.

" _Speculum Contego_!" Dean's voice came, and Seamus glanced over, noticing the other boy had made it to his feet. "Thanks Seamus," he said shakily, before striking back at their attackers. " _Glacio obrigesco_!"

The Death Eater let his shields soak the spell. Seamus grimaced as the two men advanced on them again.

"We're going to have to work carefully if we want to get out of this one," Dean said, breathing heavily.

Seamus nodded, then said, "Dean, you know that boxing move we talked about?"

"Yeah, I getcha," Dean said. "On three..." He nodded once to set the time and they both turned and fired at once.

" _Adurere_!"

" _Confractum_!"

They shot to either side of one of the advancing Death Eater. Their attacker flinched away from Seamus' bright fire spell, directly into the more hard to spot spell Dean had cast.

"Aargh!" The Death Eater cried out, collapsing to the ground and clutching at his left arm, which now hung at a sickening angle. His partner's cry distracted the remaining Death Eater for half a second too long.

" _Dormio Letum_!" Seamus' spell struck the man, and he fell back, cast into a death-like sleep. Seamus glanced over at Dean. "We should go," he said, looking strained. Facing the two Death Eaters again he pointed at the one which was still up and muttered " _Languoris_." The Death Eater collapsed sideways as the spell hit him. The crunch as he fell onto his broken arm almost made Seamus sick.

"Hold on a second. _Accio Wands_!" Dean called out, and the two Death Eater's wands came flying towards them. " _Adurere_." They burst into flame and were quickly consumed, dropping to the ground. "All right," he said. "Let's go."

The fight had taken almost three minutes, and Dean and Seamus were far from unscathed. Dean had a shiny burn blister on his arm and a cut along his cheek from spells he'd been unable to block or dodge quickly enough, and Seamus was ignoring the twinges in his ankle from a miss-step.

They turned in the direction Ron and Hermione had gone, hoping to catch up with their fellow Gryffindors before they ran into any more trouble, but before they'd gotten very far they spied a flash of magic in the distance. Looking worriedly at each other they broke into a run, wands ready.

***

The door to the study burst open. "Potter!" Lucius Malfoy roared, wand and gaze sweeping the room. But the first thing he saw was his son. A fleeting look of confusion flickered across the man's face, but was soon replaced by an icy calm. "Draco." It was a cold statement, neither inquiring, nor scolding,

"Father." Draco's reply was just as emotionless. Harry's eyes flicked back and forth between the two, wondering how this confrontation would play out.

Lucius' eyes suddenly looked away from his son, as though dismissing him, and glanced over at where Harry was sitting. "Harry Potter," he said smoothly. "I'd ask to what I owed the pleasure of your visit, but..." His smile was cold and Harry's eyes narrowed in return.

"They've gotten away by now," he said quietly.

"I think that would be a very optimistic view of the situation," Lucius said. "But even if they have, you won't." The man raised his wand slowly, taking aim.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Father." Draco's voice startled his father, and the wand faltered in its movement. Glancing away from Lucius, Harry saw Draco's wand was pointed directly at his father's heart.

"Draco," once again Lucius' voice was cold and uncaring as he said his son's name. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, there are some things I thought you should know, Father." The boy's casual tone took Harry by surprise.

"And I take it they can not wait?"

"No Father, they can not."

"Very well." Lucius very carefully took aim directly between Harry's eyes, then turned and gave his son a slow, judging look. "Go ahead," he said.

"First, I think you should know I'm not doing very well in Arithmancy."

Harry blinked, very confused.

"Second," Draco continued, "I've been doing some spying, and I think the Gryffindors know you have taken Granger hostage and may be planning to come rescue her."

 _What the hell..._ Harry's gaze tore away from the wand promising a painful death and flipped over to his companion. Draco was standing casually in the middle of the room, the look on his face almost indolent. His posture was relaxed, but the wand held rock steady at his father's belied his casual stance, and his cold eyes were a disturbing contrast to his slight smile.

"Next, you should know that they figured this out some time after I gave them your letters to read." Draco's smile widened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

"Finally, and this might be the important one, I've decided not to join the family business." His voice had remained calm and conversational through out this recitation.

"Well, some of this probably could have waited, but if you insist..." Now Harry knew where that damned drawl of Draco's came from. Lucius' tone said 'I don't care,' and 'how silly to bring this all up now,' and 'you just don't matter', all at once.

"First, we'll get you a tutor for Arithmancy. Malfoys do not fail. Second, I do think you need to work on your information gathering skills. I have been aware of this fact for, oh, minutes even."

 _Ah_ , Harry thought. _And that's where the smirk came from too._

"Third, that was unwise of you Draco, and fourth..." Lucius paused. "I do believe you will need to rethink your fourth point."

"And why is that?"

"Because I am not going to let you give up the 'family business', as you so quaintly put it."

"If you try to stop me - if you so much as move - I'm going to kill you." Draco's tone was colder now - less controlled but somehow more self assured.

"I'd like to see you try." Lucius' smirk changed to a vicious little smile that left Harry trembling faintly, and it wasn't even addressed to him.

"Well then," Draco said quietly, "give me a reason."

"You know you'd never be able to get me before I killed him." It was another one of those cold, simple statements that drove into Harry with it's pure, emotionless evil.

"Maybe not, but if you do you'll never get a shield up before I kill you."

Harry shivered. He was very aware that he was incidental to this confrontation, and that if it continued in this fashion he'd have no chance to affect its outcome. Harry hated feeling helpless. _Time to add a new factor to this euqation._ His wand slipped from its hiding place in his sleeve into his hand. The motion of his arm raising suddenly and fixing his aim on Lucius snapped the man's attention back to the boy. Harry knew he could never rival either Malfoy in the cold and uncaring stare department, but he gave it his best go anyway. "Put the wand down Malfoy," he said.

***

" _Expelliarmus_!" Dean heard Ron's cry as he and Seamus dashed towards the gate where they could make out their two friends trying desperately to hold off a trio of Death Eaters. A fourth was already on the ground.

"Damn it Ron!" He heard Hermione. "Looks like another spell the damn wards protect from. _Lentitudo_!"

 _Hermione must've taken the wand from the downed Death Eater_ , Dean thought. He saw Hermione's opponent falter but not fall, and Ron preparing to try again against the second, but it was clear that Ron hadn't noticed the third Death Eater sighting at his exposed side. Dean raced towards his friends, but Seamus' spell reached the dueling group first.

" _Dormio Letum_!"

The third Death Eater went down, and Dean saw Ron blind the one he'd been distracted by with a well-placed light spell.

" _Nebulae Letum_!" The Death Eater facing Hermione cried, and a pale, gray vapor began to pour out of his wand toward the girl.

" _Expurgare_!" Hermione called desperately, and the gray mist began to disappear, but slowly. "Don't breath it in!" she cried shrilly, before falling silent, covering her mouth and nose with her hands.

The Death Eater pointed his wand at her again, looking to take advantage of her inability to defend herself, but Dean stopped him. " _Silentium_!"

The Death Eater lost his voice and Seamus put both him and the blinded down with a shouted " _Languoris_!"

Ron rushed to Hermione. The gas had mostly dissipated, but the girl was coughing quietly.

"I'm all right," she reassured between small coughs. "I didn't breath in much..." she was cut off when he pulled her into a tight hug.

Dean destroyed the three remaining Death Eaters' wands, then looked over to where Seamus was using a diagnostic spell on Hermione, with Ron looking on worriedly. "You guys ready to go on?" he asked.

"Yeah," Seamus affirmed. "You're going to be ok," he told Hermione.

"Where did you learn that?" Ron asked.

"Picked it up while studying attack and defense spells with Dean," he shrugged. "Seemed like it'd be useful."

"How're we going to get away from here?" Hermione asked.

"We'll take the broomsticks," Dean said. "Come on, they were this way." He led the others around the curve of the wall.

***

Lucius Malfoy's eyes were dark as they fastened onto Harry. "What did you say?" He could have been asking Harry about the weather for all the reaction he showed.

"I said, 'put the wand down, Malfoy'."

Lucius' reply was still bland and uncaring, but his eyes flashed with something dark and frightening. "And why should I do that little Potter, why should I do that." He wasn't asking a question, and he wasn't expecting an answer. Lucius clearly didn't care what the hell Harry was doing.

"If you don't..." Harry started, but Lucius didn't let him finish.

"Don't bother Potter," he said. "Whatever paltry little distraction you think you may be you should know, you provide no threat here. You have no part in this discussion, so be quite and let your betters talk." And Lucius turned back to face his son.

"If you don't put your wand down now you'll regret it," Harry said. It was rather lame as threats went, but he was running by the seat of his pants and didn't have time to come up with elaborate threats and cutting one liners.

"No I won't little boy, now be quiet." Malfoy didn't even bother turning to look at him this time. "Draco," he started, and now it was Harry's turn to cut him off.

"Put it DOWN Malfoy!" he roared, and the sudden volume caused Lucius to give a small, almost unnoticeable start.

Fast as lightning Lucius' wand had snapped sideways, away from Draco and towards Harry. "You little idiot," he said, his voice suddenly venomous, "you insignificant little worm, if you do not keep your ridiculous threats to yourself I will make you suffer a thousand torments before I turn you over to my master. You have corrupted my son, invaded my home, and now you interrupt me and dare to attempt to threaten me. You will stay out of my business and you will keep quiet, do you hear." Even though he hadn't raised his voice, the force of Lucius' tone struck out at Harry like a spell. Instead of staggering, or flinching away as Lucius would have expected, the black haired boy simply shrugged.

"I will not." Lucius' lost of control seemed to have bolstered Harry's spirits, for now it was his tone that was controlled and uncaring.

"Fine." The simple word was all the warning Harry had. " _Crucio_!"

" _Speculum Contego_!"

" _Nigrosis_!"

With a trio of light flashes the three spells shot forward, reaching out to their intended targets. The pale, silver light reached Harry first and surrounded him. It was followed shortly by a painfully bright red flash, which struck the sliver and rebounded to join dark gray streaking towards Lucius Malfoy.

The two spells struck the elder Malfoy, and with a cry he crumpled to the ground.

"You idiot!" Draco's voice rang out as he rounded on Harry. "What the hell were you thinking?" The blonde's false sense of calm was now entirely gone as he confronted Harry. "Were you trying to get yourself killed? Baiting him like that, and then you didn't even try to defend yourself, did you? No! You just struck out at him!" A wild hand shot towards where Draco's father lay on the carpet. "How stupid can you be?"

"It wasn't stupid," was Harry's quiet response.

"Bloody hell! Of course it was stupid. Normal people defend themselves when going up against more powerful and better-trained wizards. What the hell were you thinking?" Draco repeated.

"Well, I didn't have to defend, did I?" A small smile slipped onto Harry's face as he looked into the flashing gray eyes of the younger Malfoy.

"What do you mean?" Draco's volume dropped a touch, but gave nothing away. "You could have been killed."

"You did it for me," was Harry's simple reply, and it seemed to end Draco's rant mid breath.

Draco blinked, then suddenly spun around on his heel and began to move quickly towards the door into the hall. "Come on." He muttered " _Adligo_ ," as he passed his father and a dark band appeared around Lucius' middle, pulling his arms tight against his sides so he'd be unable to move them when he awoke. Harry hurried to catch up as the blonde practically stormed out of the study where the burning books were still letting off their painful cry. He wondered as he strode alongside the other boy why Draco's instinct had not been to attack his father, but to defend Harry.

***

"Do we take Draco's broom?" Seamus asked, snatching up his own broomstick.

"I don't think we can," Dean said. "We need speed, not spare baggage."

"Of course we don�t!" Ron's outburst startled the two boys. "If something happens to his bloody broom he can buy himself another one for Merlin's sake. Let's just get going!"

"What about Harry's broom?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the familiar Firebolt, and giving the boys pause. Hermione didn't have enough flying experience to be able to control the racing broom, but they hadn't brought another broom for her.

"Harry'll kill us if anything happens to it," Dean said.

"But if the two of them come back here they won't be able to escape with only one broom," Seamus argued.

"Yeah, but we can't escape with only three," Ron argued. "Here." He handed Hermione his broom and snatched up the Firebolt. "Let's go."

"But..."

"Malfoy's bound to have other brooms back there," Ron gestured towards the manor. "If he and Harry make it this far they'll have time to summon one of them at the least. If they don't make it here we need to get back to the school and get help fast."

Dean nodded, accepting Ron's point, and Seamus soon followed suit.

"You going to be ok on that?" the Irish boy asked Hermione.

"Of course." Hermione may have had a rough time in the past two days, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. "I know how to fly, I just don't like it!"

"Right," Dean nodded, forestalling any more bickering. "Let's just go." He hopped onto his borrowed broom and lifted up into the sky, quickly followed by the other Gryffindors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spell translations: Everything's in Latin this time folks.
> 
> Aufigio = Escape, flee
> 
> Acerbus = Painful
> 
> Speculum Contego = I shield with a mirror.
> 
> Glacio obrigesco = Freeze stiff
> 
> Adurere = to kindle, fire
> 
> Confractum = to break or destroy
> 
> Dormio Letum = Sleep death or ruin.
> 
> Languoris = Faintness, inactivity.
> 
> Lentitudo = slowness, sluggishness
> 
> Nebulae Letum = Cloud death
> 
> Expurgare = Purify
> 
> Silentium = Silence
> 
> Nigrosis = Blackness
> 
> Adligo = Bind


	12. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: As Seamus, Dean, Ron and Hermione rush back to Hogwarts, Harry and Draco hurry to get away from Malfoy manor. But what sort of reception awaits them at the school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Cassandra Claire has allowed me to use some of her ideas, all of them belong to her.
> 
> Author notes: Thank you so much to Clio for being a fantastic beta through all of this, and to everyone who's been waiting and waiting and waiting. Here it finally is.

"Move it Harry," Draco called behind him, dashing down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, lengthening his stride to catch up with the blond. "I thought we came in that way." His hand pointed vaguely off to the right.

"We did, but it's no use going out that way," Draco answered. "If Finnigan and Thomas are as clever as they seem, they'll have talked Weasley and Granger into taking your broom and will be well gone, and the two of us can't ride just mine. We can pick up two new brooms in the front hall closet." Draco sped up as he rounded the corner, almost running down the hall.

"Won't the front hall be guarded?"

"Hope not."

There wasn't much Harry could say to that, so instead he just matched Draco's pace down the hall, keeping his wand at the ready.

It seemed, though, that whatever guards there were at Malfoy Manor must have been elsewhere - chasing the other Gryffindors or running to Lucius' aid - because no one was waiting for the two boys in the front hall. Draco practically raced to the far side of the hallway, throwing open the door to the hall 'closet' - a full sized room in Harry's opinion. Hanging from hooks on the wall were a series of expensive looking cloaks in different styles with assorted trims and linings, some with hoods, some without, and in a rack in the middle of the room was a collection of broomsticks. Harry spotted a Firebolt, as well as several of the Nimbus line and a collection of what Harry realized were antique brooms. He was a little surprised when he saw Draco pull out a pair of Nimbus 2000s, but Draco explained.

"The Firebolt's my father's, and I wouldn't trust him not to have hexed it, and the Nimbus 20001 line came with an anti-theft charm. While I'm family, and thus I wouldn't be considered to be stealing the broom, you're not." He handed over the broom, and jerked his head towards the door. "Once we're out we'll go as high as we can, as fast as we can. Get out of range of anybody on the ground. Then we head north like there's no tomorrow, so there will be one."

Harry took the broom and nodded. "Let's go."

***

"Hermione, we've got to get higher!"

"Seamus, I _can't_! It starts to shake every time I try." She sounded frantic, and scared, something Seamus wasn't used to.

"It'll be ok, 'Mione. That's just how the broom is." Ron was trying to help Hermione, but didn't seem to know what to do - she'd have been unable to handle the Firebolt, he suspected, but apparently his old broom wasn't any better.

"Seam, the sun is rising. Muggles'll be able to see us soon." Dean looked worried, and Seamus was worried that there was now enough light for him to be able to tell. They'd been fine as long as it remained dark out, but now... "We've got to get higher," he echoed Seamus.

"'Mione, the broom will be fine, it won't give out, I promise, but we've got to get above the cloud cover."

"Ron, I'll _fall_!"

"You won't, 'Mione. I swear it." Ron sounded so convinced that Hermione slowly nodded.

"I'll... I'll try." With almost agonizing slowness, Hermione guided her broom further up into the sky, knuckles whitening around the handle of the broom as it shook slightly underneath her.

The four of them made it into a cloud bank just as the sun peeked over the horizon, turning the water vapor around them almost blindingly white.

"How will we know where to go?" Ron asked, keeping as close to Hermione as he could without getting in her way.

"The sun rises in the east - we go as far north as we can and look for landmarks," Dean answered.

"There's a spell," Hermione said, her voice only shaking a little bit. " _Hogwarts Invenio_ , which will find the school for us, kind of like the 'Point Me' spell. I'll need my hands free to cast it, though, and I'm not letting go of this damned broom until I'm on the ground."

"We'll do it when we stop to rest. For now, going straight north will work well enough," Seamus said.

"How... how far is it?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding tight.

"Far enough," Dean answered.

"You'll be fine," Seamus added, smiling at the girl, but she didn't answer, simply set her face and nodded slightly.

***

It was dark before Seamus would let them land, and Hermione had looked exhausted, but she'd agreed that they couldn't risk being seen. Luckily it had been fairly overcast all along their path, although they'd had to divert from their straight northern path to follow the clouds a few times. They rested a few hours before pushing on again - the sooner they got back to the castle the sooner they could let the Professors know what had happened and maybe help Harry, and now that it was dark they could risk flying low enough to see. Between that and Hermione's location spell giving them the proper direction to travel they made good time, spotting the lights of Hogsmeade a few hours before dawn.

The second they were over the wall to Hogwarts grounds, Hermione dove straight for the ground, hopping off the broom as soon as she could, and then dropping to her knees, holding herself tightly. As the boys followed her down they could hear her muttering to herself, "Never flying again."

Ron hurried over to her, wrapping his arms around the girl. "It's ok now. You're safe."

It was Dean who spotted the light coming towards them. "Um... guys," he said, and the others all looked up.

"Who goes there?" a commanding, but thankfully familiar voice came from out of the darkness.

"Professor Sprout?" Dean called back. "It's us. Dean and Seamus and Ron. We've got Hermione."

The approaching light had paused as Dean started speaking, then moved quickly forward, until the four of them could make out the slightly portly witch hurrying through the grass. "Thank the founders you're all right," she said, quickly moving to Hermione's side and clearly looking the girl over for any injuries. "Come on, we must get you to the Headmaster at once, all of you..." She cut herself off. "Potter and Malfoy?" she asked.

Biting his lip, Dean said, "We're not sure. We think they're behind us but..."

Sprout cut him off with a nod. "We'll get you inside and you can tell it to everyone at once."

Apparently, by 'everyone' Sprout meant herself, and Professors McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick, for that was who was waiting for them when they reached the Headmaster's office.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, looking worriedly to Professor McGonagall seated behind his desk.

"Gone to Malfoy Manor to retrieve some abominably stupid..." Snape began, but Professor McGonagall cut him off.

"Later, Severus," she said. "Weasley, tell us what happened. Where are Potter and Malfoy?"

But it was Seamus who spoke up quickly. "They were behind us - Draco said he'd distract his father so we could get Hermione away, and Harry went with him."

Snape's eyes had narrowed at Seamus' use of Draco's first name, and he growled, "What stupidity made Potter think he could 'distract' Lucius Malfoy?"

"Presumably the same that made Draco think he could." It was out Seamus' mouth before he had time to think.

"Ten points from..."

"Severus, please, later. Finnigan, continue. Or rather, start from the beginning. What on earth possessed you children to leave school and fly off to Malfoy Manor?"

Taking a deep breath, Seamus launched into the story from the very first attack, through the Malfoy letters, and up to Harry and Ron's rash decision to fly off. He kept it as simple and brief as he could, but none of his audience tried to interrupted his story for clarification.

"Malfoy said he'd be coming with us, because he was the only one who knew how to get there and could get past the wards, and Harry wrote a note for Dumbledore, and we all set out. He did help us through the wards, and led us down to where Hermione was being held. After breaking her out, we split up, and here we are," Seamus finished.

"Quite a tale, Mr. Finnigan," came a voice behind him, and everyone's attention snapped to where Dumbledore was now standing, with Harry and Draco at his sides.

"Oh thank God!" Hermione cried, jumping out of her chair and rushing towards Harry to throw her arms around him.

"I'm ok, 'Mione," Harry said as the other Gryffindors started for him, crowding around the two of them. "Really, I promise."

"I'm so glad you're back safe, mate," Ron said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder.

It was Seamus who glanced over at Draco. "All right then, Malfoy?" he asked from where he stood near Harry.

Draco gave the Irish boy a little smirk, but his voice was devoid of malice as he said, "Well enough, Finnigan."

"Yes, yes, all back safely. For now... it will be sixty points from each of you for leaving the school, and sixty to each of you for successfully rescuing Ms. Granger from a dire situation. Thank you, Harry, for at least telling me where you were going this time." Dumbledore sounded tired, although his eyes twinkled slightly at this last. "And now, if you don't mind, Professors Snape and McGonagall will see you safely back to your respective common rooms, I'm sure everyone will be very glad to see you're back."

"Thank you Professor," Dean managed, looking embarrassed as Professor McGonagall rose to escort them out of the room.

"Of course, Mr. Thomas," Dumbledore said. "And you can all be excused from lessons to rest - I can't imagine you've slept much since you left us two nights ago."

Out in the hallway, Snape took Malfoy by the shoulder and the two of them headed down towards the dungeons without a word that the assorted Gryffindors could hear, although Seamus would later swear he'd seen Draco glancing over his shoulder towards Harry as he turned the corner.

"Come on," Professor McGonagall said, her lips thin as they headed through the hallway towards the Common Room. Outside the portrait hole she paused. "I am glad you've all made it back safely, and if you ever do such a stupid thing again..."

"Professor, have Justin and the others been woken yet?" Seamus asked as she trailed off.

She sighed. "The cure is brewing even now, and Professor Snape predicts it will be ready before tomorrow night. Now, get inside, and get to sleep."

"Thank you," Hermione said, looking about ready to collapse in the hallway.

***

The entire dormitory was woken the next morning by Parvati's shriek at discovering Hermione asleep in her bed. When grilled by their respective dorm mates, Hermione and the boys said they'd been too tired to even contemplate waking everyone to let them know they were back, and that they'd tell the story tonight, after classes. Most of the younger kids accepted this, but Parvati looked mutinous and the boys never did find out what Hermione said to placate her.

Ginny, however, would not be put off. With Neville and Colin at her sides, she slipped back into the Common Room after everyone else had gone to the Great Hall for breakfast. "You _will_ be telling me what happened now," she told Ron, and he was too exhausted to argue with his sister, for once.

He gave her the short version, and even so by the time he was done Neville was almost late to their first lesson.

"Wait, what happened here?" Ron asked, looking curiously at the three of them.

"We've got an open period," Colin said. "Nev, get to class, we'll tell them."

"T...tell them?" Neville said, eyebrows raising as he shot a worried glance in Ron's direction, which Ron simply looked baffled at.

"Don't be silly," Ginny put in. "Not that."

And whatever she meant seemed to reassure Neville. "Ah, right," he said. "Right. Must dash, don't want to be late." He darted quickly out the portrait hole, leaving the two younger kids to field everyone's stares.

Seamus shot a look at Dean, but Dean just shrugged. Sighing, Seamus turned back to Ginny. "So, go on then. What was happening here?"

"Well," Ginny said, "after the ruckus you had Neville cause, it took Professor McGonagall a while to figure out you all had vanished. Once she did she was furious, but when she went off to tell Dumbledore she didn't come storming back - he must have said something to her. As for you lot getting Nev to..."

"Gin," Colin cut in. "Anyway, two nights ago - the night after you all vanished - I was out taking some photos."

"Which you shouldn't have been doing on your own," Ginny put in.

"Which I shouldn't have been doing on my own," Colin agreed without hesitation, "I heard something behind me. I spun around, and without thinking about it my finger hit the shutter stop. Which," he clarified at Ron's puzzled look, "set off the flash, which blinded the man with the silver arm who had appeared behind me."

Hermione gasped. "Colin, what did you do?"

"What any sensible person would do - kicked him while he couldn't see me and ran like mad."

Seamus laughed, more at Harry's affronted look than at Colin's answer. "Good on you, mate," he said. "Trust me, heroics are never the way to go."

"Yeah, well. I ran down to the Great Hall, where I was lucky enough to run into Professor Sinistra. When I told her what had happened she brought me back to Gryffindor and told the Prefects not to let anyone leave the tower, then went off to let the rest of the Professors know and sent everyone back to the dorms."

"We were in here for the next two hours," Ginny put in, "waiting. Eventually, McG. came in to let us know that the intruder had been driven out, but not captured. We're still to be on guard, but they don't think anyone else will be attacked. Rumor has it that Snape fought the guy but couldn't catch him, but who knows if that's true."

Harry and Ron exchanged dark looks, but Hermione simply nodded. "I'm glad you're all right, Colin," she said.

"Well, that makes two of us," he said. "And I'm glad you're all right as well. We were worried."

Dean stifled a yawn. "I'm glad you're both all right, and that we're all back, but I'm still exhausted. You two ought to get to your next class, whatever it, and we ought to do what Dumbledore said and get back to bed."

Seamus said, "Sounds like a plan to me."

Ginny nodded. "Come on Colin," she said, tugging at his hand. "I want to see if we can sweet talk some breakfast from the House Elves before Herbology. Sleep well!" The two of them disappeared out the portrait hole, waving a farewell wave behind them.

"Er... you guys go on," Ron said, as soon as they'd left. "I think we'll stay down here for a bit and talk."

"Suit yourself, mate," Seamus said. "Later all." He stood to make his way up to their dorm.

Dean followed, shaking his head at the muted buzz of furious whispering that started as soon as they were around the curve of the stairs. "Heroing," he muttered.

"Hey, if it makes them happy..."

"They're mad."

"Quite possibly."

"And we helped this time. What's that make us?"

"Mad, clearly," Seamus said with a laugh, and Dean didn't argue.

With a yawn, Dean flopped back onto his bed when he reached it, stretching his arms up the headboard.

Seamus considered him for a second, then smiled to himself. Toeing off his shoes, he crawled onto Dean's bed, laying down and resting his head on Dean's chest.

Dean looked down at Seamus, vaguely amused.

"Mind?" Seamus asked sleepily.

"Nope." With a shift of his shoulders, Dean brought one arm down to curl around Seamus' back and the two of them drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The spell Hogwarts Invenio translates to find Hogwarts in Latin.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: possibly all four books, but no intentional spoilers
> 
> Summary: Seamus and Dean finally have a chance to sit, relax and decompress. And, of course, Seamus takes the opportunity to chatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Cassandra Claire has allowed me to use some of her ideas, all of them belong to her.
> 
> Author notes: Thank you so much to Clio for being a fantastic beta through all of this, and to everyone who's been waiting and waiting and waiting. Here it finally is.

"So," Seamus said. "Is every week going to be like this, do you think?"

It was two days after the boys and returned from Malfoy Manor with Hermione, and Seamus was lying on one of the couches in the Common Room with his head in Dean's lap as Dean idly ran his hand through Seamus' hair while he studied.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, looking up from the textbook propped against the arm of the couch.

"Well, it's not even been two weeks since you and I got together, which also happened to be the night Justin was attacked. In that time a good half dozen of our friends were attacked, one was kidnapped, we rushed off to her rescue and managed not to get ourselves killed in the process, made it back mostly intact, and have gone back to classes. Honestly, how does Harry manage? It's not even Christmas yet."

"Ah, well, Harry's mad, remember. We figured that one out days ago."

"Oh, right. So how's that apply to the rest of _our_ year? What'll it be like, now we've started down the road of adventure?"

"Are we mad?"

"Er... maybe? I don't know? What _is_ the right answer to that one?"

Dean chuckled. "You may be mad, Seam, but _I'm_ not."

Seamus snorted. "Who's the nutter who's going out with me?"

"Point. Well, how about this, we're not mad enough to go gallivanting around after Harry every time the world needs saving?"

"Just every second time? Cause that'd still probably kill us."

"I was thinking more along the lines of one in twelve."

"Hmm... We could probably manage that, yeah."

"Good." Dean's attention was refocused on his textbook, and Seamus was left to entertain himself.

"Does not following him on his adventures include not following him when he goes wandering after Draco?" Seamus asked.

Dean blinked and looked up. "Has he been?"

"Well, no, not as such, but I can't imagine it's going to be very long until he does. They've been making eyes at each other."

"Be serious, Seamus, they have not."

"Well, not making eyes maybe, but certainly watching each other rather closely, and you know that letter Harry got yesterday at lunch?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"I think it was from him."

Dean stared, then shook his head, turning back to his book. "Doubt it," he said. "One, sending notes wouldn't really be Draco's style - far more likely to talk to him in person, I'd expect - and two, Harry ended up talking in 'heroic whispers' with Ron, which he most definitely would not do if it were from Draco."

"Well, maybe not, but really, I do think there's something..." Seamus trailed off, aware he'd lost Dean's attention again. "Well, if they go vanishing off into dark corners alone together, I'll let you know. What do you reckon's going on with Ginny, Colin and Nev then?" he tried, and Dean sighed.

"No idea. Every time I try to get a straight answer out of Colin he tells me to ask Ginny, and Gin keeps accusing me of being a spy for Ron."

"Clearly Nev's the one to talk to then. Weak link, you might say."

"You might, but not somewhere where he could hear you."

Seamus grinned. "Well, no, not where he could hear me."

"Feel free to go ask him. I'm going to finish my homework."

"Why is your transfiguration so much more engrossing than I am?" Seamus pouted faintly.

"It's quieter and better behaved than you are," Dean said with a snort.

"What're you doing for Christmas?" Seamus' sudden change of topic got Dean to look up.

"Er, hadn't thought about it. Why?"

"No reason," Seamus said, and fell silent.

"Seamus..."

"Yes?"

"Over many years I have learned never to trust you when you say things for 'no reason'. What's up?"

"Well... would you like to come to Ireland for Christmas break?"

"Would I..." Dean trailed off.

"Totally understand if you don't want to, and I wouldn't blame you for wanting to, you know, go home and see your parents and stuff, but if you wanted to come then we could, you know, have a nice, quiet time, maybe take advantage of not having any room mates, or maybe not, you know, if you didn't want to, but I was just thinking it might be an interesting idea, but like I said, I totally don't expect you to..."

Dean stemmed the flow of words by the simple expedient of leaning down and kissing him. "I'd love to," he said quietly. "I probably can't get away from my parents all break, but I could come for a while. I think it would be nice."

Seamus grinned up at him. "Yeah... me too." Then he hooked an arm around Dean's neck, dragging him down for another kiss, having succeeded at last in distracting Dean from his work.


End file.
